Written in the Village of A----, Virginia.
Sweet village of the mountain glen!
Thy verdant shades are dear to me;
I shun the busy haunts of men,
And to thy peaceful bosom flee;
For smiling nature's summer home
Is found beside thy flashing rills,
And when the winter-tempests come,
She reigns upon thy rugged hills.
Upon thy rocks the tow'ring pine,
The hemlock and the cedar grow;
And high the wild and flow'ring vine,
Its tendrils round their branches throw.
'Tis sweet to stray thy paths along,
Beside some bright and rippling stream
Whose waters with a murm'ring song,
Glance gaily in the sunny beam.
Through distant lands my feet may roam,
In foreign climes my dwelling be,
Unchang'd where'er I make my home,
My heart will still abide with thee.
Yes! still with thee, in joy or woe,
On desert land, or stormy sea,
In pain or bliss, where'er I go,
My love will ever dwell with thee.