Taunton Dene

SWEET Taunton Dene! thy smiling fields

  Once more with merry accents ring;

Once more reviving Nature yields

  Her tribute to the smiling spring.

  The small birds in the woodland sing,

The ploughman turns the kindly green,

  And Pleasure waves her resistless wing

Among thy groves, sweet Taunton Dene.

But peace abides with Him alone

  Who rules with calm, resistless power;

Through all creation’s boundless zone,

  From rolling sphere to garden flower.

  Nor falls in spring the welcome shower

Unwilled of Him, nor tempest blows,

  Nor wind within the fragrant bower

Can rend a leaf from summer rose.

Sweet Taunton Dene! O, long abide

  In thy fair vale delights like these!

And long may Tone’s smooth waters glide

  By smiling cots and hearts at ease!

  Be thine the joy of rustic peace,

Each sound that haunts the woodland scene;

  And blithe beneath thy bowering trees

The dance at eve, Sweet Taunton Dene!