Come to the Wyeside ! come with me !
Unhappy here thou canst but be ;
For gentle hearts abhor the strife
That is in towns for ever rife.

The scenes around the peaceful grange
Have undergone but little change
Since years ago thou leftist thy home,
By false ambition lur'd to roam.

The churchyard has a few more graves,
O'er most of which the long grass waves ;
But some there are, all fair with flowers.
Which bloom above lost friends of ours.

The path is stopped through Beechwood dell,
For strangers now st. Beechwood dwell,
And down beside the village pool
No more thou'lt see the village school.

But still thou'lt hear the rippling rills ;
And still thou'lt see the tree-clad hills ;
For Nature's charms are now as fair
As when we roam'd in childhood there.

The Wye is still as pure a stream
As when thereby we lov'd to dream
The day-dreams bright of bygone years.
Unconscious that they'd end in tears.

Come, then, with me, and, as of old,
A sister's arms shall thee enfold ;
And smiles of love shall chase away
The cares that on thy sad heart prey.

When Spring in peerless beauty reigns,
We'll rove the flower-enamell'd plains
By thee so lov'd and deem'd so fair,
Ere thy young heart knew aught of care.

In Summer's heat the hills we'll scale.
And on their tops the breeze inhale
That coolly comes from greenwood dells,
Where morning's freshness longest dwells.

In Winter's dark and stormy nights
We'll draw from books those pure delights,
Which they who seek may always find,
Where wit and wisdom lie enshrin'd.

I'll sing thee, too, thy boyhood's songs,
Till thoughts of old come back in throngs ;
And thou wilt marvel thou could'st stray
From home, and friends, and me away.

Come to the Wyeside, then, with me.
And I a home will make for thee.
Where feignless love and stainless truth
Shall bring thee back the peace of youth.

More verses by John Bradford