XVIII.

'And thither let the village swain repair; 'And, light of heart, the village maiden gay, 'To deck with flowers her half-dishevelled hair, 'And celebrate the merry morn of May. 'There let the shepherd's pipe, the live-long day, 'Fill all the grove with love's bewitching woe; 'And when mild Evening comes with mantle grey, 'Let not the blooming band make haste to go; 'No ghost, nor spell, my long and last abode shall know.