  Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark, his lay who trill’d all day, Sits hush’d his partner nigh; Breeze, bird, and flower, confess the hour But where is County Guy? The village maid steals through the shade, Her shepherd’s suit to hear; To beauty shy, by lattice high, Sings high-born Cavalier. The star of Love, all stars above, Now reigns o’er earth and sky; And high and low the influence know— But where is County Guy? Sir W. Scott. |
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