As Late I Rambled In The Happy Fields, What Time The Skylark Shakes The Tremulous Dew From His Lush Clover Covert; When Anew Adventurous Knights Take Up Their Dinted Shields; I Saw The Sweetest Flower Wild Nature Yields, A Fresh-Blown Musk-Rose; 'Twas The First That Threw Its Sweets Upon The Summer: Graceful It Grew As Is The Wand That Queen Titania Wields. And, As I Feasted On Its Fragrancy, I Thought The Garden-Rose It Far Excelled; But When, O Wells! Thy Roses Came To Me, My Sense With Their Deliciousness Was Spelled: Soft Voices Had They, That With Tender Plea Whispered Of Peace, And Truth, And Friendliness Unquelled.