the chevalier&039;s nt
air—“capta o&039;kean”
the sall birds rejoice the green leaves returng,
the ururg strealet ds clear thro&039; the vale;
the priroses blow the dews of the orng,
and wild scatter&039;d wslips bedeck the green dale:
but what can give pleasure, or what can see fair,
when the lrg onts are nubered by care?
no birds sweetly sgg, nor flow&039;rs gaily sprgg,
can othe the sad bo of joyless despair
the deed that i dared, uld it rit their alice?
a kg and a father to pce on his throne!
his right are these hills, and his right are these valleys,
where the wild beasts fd shelter, tho&039; i can fd none!
but &039;tis not y suff&039;rgs, th wretched, forlorn,
y brave galnt friends, &039;tis your ru i ourn;
your faith proved loyal hot bloody trial,—
as! i can ake it no better return!
草小说