avaunt, away! the cruel sway,

tyrannic man's dominion;

the sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry,

the flutt'ring, gory pinion!

but, y dear, the ev'ning's clear,

thick flies the skimming swallow,

the sky is blue, the fields in view,

all fading-green and yellow:

e let us stray our dsome way,

and view the charms of nature;

the rustling corn, the fruited thorn,

and ev'ry happy creature.

we'll gently walk, and sweetly talk,

till the silent moon shine clearly;

i'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest,

swear how i love thee dearly:

not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs,

not autumn to the farmer,

so dear can be as thou to me,

my fair, my lovely charmer!