Misled By Fancy's Meteor Ray, By Passion

When Chill November's Surly Blast Made Fields And Forests Bare.

In Durance Vile 1here Must I Wake And Weep, And All My Frowsy Couch In Sorrow Steep.

That Hour O' Night's Black Arch The Keystane.

Now Simmer Blinks On Flowery Braes, And O'er The Crystal Streamlet Plays.

The Trout In Yonder Wimpling Burn - That Glides, A Silver Dart, - And, Safe Beneath The Shady Thorn, - Defies The Anglers Art.