« AnteriorContinuar »
My father's house in wet or dry
She looked at it and seemed to fear it;
The bird in the corn
Is a marvellous crow.
In the season of snow;
He comes from the shades
Of his wood very early,
Of the wheat and the barley,
The larks have devices
For sunny delight,
Are woolly and white;
And morning goes by,
And still he is there,
Calls him back to his lair
But the boy in the lane
With his gun, by-and-by,
Will narrowly spy,
GORBO, as thou camest this way,
By yonder little hill,
She's in a frock of Lincoln green,
Which colour likes her sight,
And never hath her beauty seen,
But through a veil of white;
Than roses richer to behold,
That trim up lovers' bowers, The pansy and the marigold,
Though Phoebus' paramours.
Thou well describ'st the daffodil;
It is not full an hour, Since by the spring, near yonder hill,
I saw that lovely flower.
fair flower thou didst not meet Nor news of her didst bring, And yet my Daffodil 's more sweet
Than that by yonder spring.
In yonder field of lilies,
A wreath of daffodillies.
Yet, Gorbo, thou delud'st me still,
My flower thou didst not see; For, know, my pretty Daffodil
Is worn of none but me.
To show itself but near her feet
No lily is so bold,
Or keep her from the cold.
Descending from the hill,
They call her Daffodil:
Whose presence, as along she went,
The pretty flowers did greet, As though their heads they downward bent
With homage to her feet.
And all the shepherds that were nigh,
From top of every hill, Unto the valleys loud did cry,
There goes sweet Daffodil.
Thou all my flocks dost fill,
A CHRISTMAS LEGEND
ABROAD on a winter's night there ran
Goat-legged, goat-bearded Pan.
He loved to run on the crisp white floor, Where black hill-torrents chiselled grooves, And he loved to print his clean-cut hooves,
Where none had trod before.
And now he slacked and came to a stand
That bleated near at hand.
“Bell-wether, bell-wether, what do you say? Peace, and huddle your ewes from cold!" “Master, but ere we went to fold
Our herdsman hastened away.
“Over the hill came other twain And pointed away to Bethlehem, And spake with him, and he followed them,
And has not come again.
"He dropped his pipe of the river-reed;
So that we cannot feed."