The Oboe.

From: Poems (1844)
Author: Christopher Pearse Cranch
Published: Carey and Hart 1844 Philadelphia



Now come with me beside the sedgy brook,
Far in the fields, away from crowded street;
Into the flowing water let us look,
While o’er our heads the whispering elm-trees meet.
There will we listen to a simple tale
Of fireside pleasures and of shepherds’ loves.
A reedy voice sweet as the nightingale,
As tender as the cooing of the doves,
Shall sing of Corydon and Amaryllis;
The grasshopper shall chirp, the bee shall hum,
The stream shall murmur to the waterlilies,
And all the sounds of summer-noon shall come,
And mingling in the Oboe’s pastoral tone,
Make thee forget that man did ever sigh and moan.

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