As late I rambled in the happy fields,	
   What time the sky-lark 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 excell'd:	        
But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me	
   My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd:	
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea	
   Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell'd.