Hail sacred shades! cool, leavy House! br Chaste treasurer of all my vows, br And wealth! on whose soft bosom laid br My love's fair steps I first betrayed: br Henceforth no melancholy flight, br No sad wing, or hoarse bird of night, br Disturb this air, no fatal throat br Of raven, or owl, awake the note br Of our laid echo, no voice dwell br Within these leaves, but Philomel. br The poisonous ivy here no more br His false twists on the oak shall score, br Only the woodbine here may twine br As th'emblem of her love and mine; br Th'amorous sun shall here convey br His best beams, in thy shades to play; br The active air, the gentlest showers br Shall from his wings rain on thy flowers; br And the moon from her dewy locks br Shall deck thee with her brightest drops: br What ever can a fancy move, br Or feed the eye; be on this Grove; br And when at last the winds and tears br Of Heaven, with the consuming years, br Shall these green curls bring to decay, br And clothe thee in an aged gray: br (If ought a lover can foresee; br Or if we poets, prophets be) br From hence transplant'd, thou shalt stand br A fresh Grove in th'Elysian land; br Where (most blest pair!) as here on earth br Thou first didst eye our growth and birth; br So there again, thou'lt see us move br In our first innocence, and love: br And in thy shades, as now, so then, br We'll kiss, and smile, and walk again.