Warm gorse blossoms


The sharp wind shivers in the warm gorse blossoms 
& trembles in the dead grass o'er the heath
The silver rain pearls in the wild flowers bosoms 
& moistens minute flowers of moss beneath
There i' the morning dew I early ramble
What time beneath the fern the weary moth
Hides from the sun in dew drops hangs the bramble
As down the rabbit track I venture forth

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Azure bluebells


Of too much value for the clown who sung

The azure bluebells in their sapphire stems
Among green bushes low their mute bells hung
These seemed loves modest maidens dew bestrung
With blebs o' mornings glittering pearls
I loved them in the valleys where I sung

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Image by my friend #RachelBurch

Sunshiny May


I think when the glad shepherd lay

On the velvet sward stretched for a bed
On the bosom of sunshiny May
While a hillock supported his head
I think when in meeting the maid
Made choice of a hill for her seat
When the winds so deliciously played
In her curls 'mid her blushes so sweet

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Each hated track


So when the Traveller uncertain roams

On lost roads leading every where but home
Each vain desire that leaves his heart in pain
Each fruitless hope to cherish it in vain
Each hated track so slowly left behind
Makes for the home which night denies to find
& every wish that leaves the aching breast
Flies to the spot where all its wishes rest

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The mossy wall


Tho floods of winter bustling fall
Adown the arches bleak & blea
Tho snow storms cloath the mossy wall
& hourly whiten oer the lea
Yet when from clouds the sun is free
& warms the learning bird to sing
Neath sloping bank or sheltering tree  
Tis sweet to watch the creeping spring

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Image by my friend #RachelBurch

Smiling in sunshine


Smiling in sunshine as the storm frowns by
Whose dreadful rage seems to thy quiet thrall
As small birds twitterings that beneath thee fly
Winds call aloud & they may louder call
For deaf to dangers voice sublime & grand
Thou towerst in thy old majesty oer all
Tempests that break the tall masts like a wand
Howl their rage weary round thee & no more

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Greenwood side path


I wandered down a green wood side
On Sunday noon in spring
Where little birds their dwellings hide
& Thrushes sweetly sing
The moss so green round Hazel roots
The Primrose by its side
That in its brimstone livery shoots
In bunches far and wide

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