Herbs, and other country messes, Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses.

Meadows trim, with daisies pied, Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; Towers and balements it sees Bosomed high in tufted trees, Where perhaps some beauty lies, Th…

And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth, and many a maid, Dancing in the checkered shade. And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday.

And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale.

Oh, to be home again, home again, home again! Under the apple-boughs, down by the mill!

This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is- A sort of soup or broth, or brew, Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes, That Greenwich never could outdo.

I long for rural and domestic scenes, for the warbling of Birds and the Prattle of my Children. Don't you think I am somewhat poetical this morning, for one of…