Wherever I be


How could I how should I — that loved her so early

Forget when I've sung of her beauty in song
How could I forget what I've worshiped so dearly
From boyhood to manhood and all my life long
As leaves to the branches in summer comes daily
& blossoms will bloom on the stalk & the tree
To her beauty I'll cling & i'll love her as truly
& think of sweet Mary wherever I be

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Full & brimming


The floods come o’er the meadow leas
The dykes are full & brimming
Field furrows reach the horses knees
Where wild ducks oft are swimming
The skies are black the fields are bare
The trees their coats are loosing
The leaves are dancing in the air
The sun its warmth refusing

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Living luscious tinting


The rich brown-umber hue the oaks unfold 
When springs young sunshine bathes their trunks in gold 
So rich so beautiful so past the power 
Of words to paint—my heart aches for the dower 
The pencil gives to soften & infuse 
This brown luxuriance of unfolding hues 
This living luscious tinting woodlands give 
Into a landscape that might breath & live

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Wind the lane


How sweet to wind the lane confined as now
In a lovd prison of oer hanging boughs
As loosd & wirls each turning round & round
Some new variety keeps d[r]op[p]ing in
Fresh flowr or scene speckt cot or steeples point
Just sprouting oer the horizon still changing sweet
[Flowering] lovley & for ever new
As on proceeding to the lanes last end
[Pastor[a]lls] gently on a hill whose rise commands
A bursting view apprising on the eye

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Image by my friend #RachelBurch

Heaven unfolding


The scene it was cheery when I met my deary
In evens cool mantle of dew
T’was heaven unfolding in sunset so golden
But ah it was sweeter far sweeter beholding
Fond love at its first interview

O fond loves excesses the heart how it blesses
Wi the jem of our raptures in view
We fancy none fairer we fancy none dearer
There may be as true but we think none sincerer
Loves sketches are perfectly drew

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Fire streak burning


O now the crimson east its fire streak burning
Tempts me to wander neath the blushing morn
Winding the zig zag lane turning & turning
As winds the crooked fences wilderd thorn
O wheres the eye can gaze upon the dawn

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Wi hobbling strides


While the cows wi hobbling strides
Switching slow their flye bit hides
Rubs the pastures creaking gate
Milking maids & boys to wait
As the sunshine leaves the skye
As the day light shuts her eye
O wi thee to meet the breeze
Neath the shade of awthorn trees

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Image by my friend #JohnAbbott