Diary of Frances Louisa Bussell 18 September - 20 October 1832

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This transcription is complete

Some spot like home on that wild shore

  Some dear familiar face

That scatter'd town that foreign soil

  Those groves of dusky green

'Tho seen thro' Fancy's [poison?] [fruit?]

  To form an English scene

And yet my heart with pleasure swells

  As [...] I [...] to view

A land where Friendship surely dwells

  Where Love beats[?] warm & true

May I not dream of dark eyed maids

  Of youths of warlike mien

Of "light guitars" & orange shades

  And many a lovely scene?

May I not think that tales of love

  Have murmured to this breeze

May I not think that Friends will come

  Beneath those far off trees?

May I not hope a Parent's smile

  Chased by a sacred tear

As in my own loved native Isle

  Has dawned in sweetness here?

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