Blowing his fingers

& foddering boys sojourn again
By ryhme hung hedge & frozen plain
Shuffling thro the sinking snows
Blowing his fingers as he goes
To where the stock in bellowings hoarse
Call for their meals in dreary close
& print full many a hungry track
Round circling hedge that guards the stack

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Jostling reeds

The slender rush in idle motion bows

With meek obedience to the floods below

Were jostling reeds & willows dangling boughs

Impede their gurgling progress as they flow

On the thorn bush that overhangs the streams

The morehen slumbers in her nest of sedge

While the shrill dormouse in its summer dreams

Chitters unceasing from the waters edge

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Image by my friend #AnnieLee

Wealth far richer

Then village childern seeking after toys

Their clownish hearts & ever heedless eyes

Find  nought in nature they as wealth can prize

With them self interest & the thoughts of gain

Are natures beautys all beside are vain

But he the man of science & of taste

Sees wealth far richer in the worthless waste

Where bits of lichen & a sprig of moss

Will all the raptures of his mind engross

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