from Collected Letters (to Lord Byron, 22 October 1815)
Encinctur'd with a twine of Leaves,
That leafy Twine his only Dress!
A lovely Boy was plucking fruits
In a moon-light Wilderness.
The Moon was bright, the Air was free,
And Fruits and Flowers together grew
On many a Shrub and many a Tree:
And all put on a gentle Hue
Hanging in the shadowy Air
Like a Picture rich and rare.
It was a Climate where, they say,
The Night is more belov'd than Day.
But who that beauteous Boy beguil'd,
That beauteous Boy to linger here?
Alone, by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild—
Has he no Friend, no loving Mother near?
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from Aids to Reflection
(London: Taylor & Hessey, 1825)
Encinctur'd with a twine of Leaves,
That leafy twine his only Dress!
A lovely Boy was plucking fruits
In a moonlight wilderness.
The Moon was bright, the air was free,
And Fruits and Flowers together grew
On many a Shrub and many a Tree:
And all put on a gentle hue,
Hanging in the shadowy air
Like a Picture rich and rare.
It was a Climate where, they say,
The Night is more beloved than Day.
But who that beauteous Boy beguil'd,
That beauteous Boy! to linger here?
Alone, by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild—
Has he no friend, no loving mother near?
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from "Prefatory Note," Poetical Works (London: Pickering, 1834)
Encinctured with a twine of leaves,
That leafy twine his only dress!
A lovely Boy was plucking fruits,
By moonlight, in a wilderness.
The moon was bright, the air was free,
And fruits and flowers together grew
On many a shrub and many a tree:
And all put on a gentle hue,
Hanging in the shadowy air
Like a picture rich and rare.
It was a climate where, they say,
The night is more belov'd than day.
But who that beauteous Boy beguil'd,
That beauteous Boy to linger here?
Alone, by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild—
Has he no friend, no loving mother near?
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