...arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, I Of pine or monumental oak, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke, Was never heard...covert by some brook, Where no profaner eye may look. Hide me from day's garish eye, White the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing,...

...gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from oif the eaves. 130 And , when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, 135 Where the rude ax, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt....

...occasionally transported him " To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke Was never heard,...daunt, Or fright them from their hallow'd haunt." Such are Poussin's Arcadian forest scenes of the primitive ages. We almost incontinently quote Milton,...

...twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of pine, or monumental oake, Where the rude ax with heaved stroke Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,...covert by some brook, Where no profaner eye may look, Hide me from Day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowry work doth sing,...

...twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of pine, or monumental oake, Where the rude ax with heaved stroke Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,...covert by some brook, Where no profaner eye may look, Hide me from Day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowry work doth sing,...

...low-voiced dove : Oh leave your towns, and go with me Under the shady greenwood tree ! TM THE COUNTRY. " And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

...the arched walks of twilight groves And shadows brown that Sylvan loves, Of pine or monumental oak, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. They are not village folks. They are well off, and without encumbrance, and of noble...

...gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. iso And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...covert by some brook, Where no profaner eye may look, uo Hide me from day's garish eye, While the bee with honied thigh, That at her flowery work doth sing,...

...the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. And when the Sun begins to fling His flaring beams,...brown, that Sylvan loves, Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was never heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...

...the gust hath blown his fill, Ending on the rustling leaves, With minute drops from off the eaves. tliou with impious obloquy condemn The just decree of God, pronounc'd Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke, Was uever heard the nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their...