Down the lane


Now rising ground permits the plain 
To change the restless view
The pathways leading down the lane 
My pleasures still renew
The osiers slender shade is by
& bushes thickly spread
Again the ground is firm & dry
Nor trembles neath the tread

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The ant


What wonder strikes the curious while he views
The black ants city by a rotten tree
Or woodland bank! In ignorance we muse
Pausing annoyed -- we know not what we see
Such government & thought there seem to be
Some looking on & urging some to toil
Dragging their loads of bent-stalks slavishly
& whats more wonderful when big loads foil
One ant or two to carry quickly then
A swarm flock round to help their fellow-men
Surely they speak a language whisperingly
Too fine for us to hear & sure their ways
Prove they have kings and laws & that they be
Deformed remnants of the Fairy-days

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Crossing a brook



Wereover many a stile neeth willows grey 
The winding footpath leaves the public way
Free from the dusty din & ceasless chime
Of bustling waggons in the summer time
Crossing a brook—were braving storms in vain
Two willows fell & still for brigs remain
Corn field & clover closes leading down
In peacful windings to the neighbouring town

Were on bridge wall or rail or trees smooth bark
The passing eye is often stopt to mark
The artless vanity of village swains
Who spend a leisure hour with patient pains
& put to sculptors purposes the knife
To spin a cobweb for an after life
Nicking the letters of their little names
In rudest forms that untaught science frames

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Sweet solitude


Sweet solitude what joy to be alone
In wild wood shady dell to stay for hours
Twould soften hearts if they were hard as stone
To see glad Butterflies & smiling flowers
Tis pleasant in these quiet lonely places
Where not the voice of Man our pleasure mars
To see the little bees with coal black faces
Gath'ring sweets from little flowers like stars

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Oak trees dancing


Oak trees dancing round & round 
Green was the shade—I love the woods 
When autumns wind is mourning loud 
To see the leaves float on the floods 
Dead within their yellow shroud 
The wood was then in glory spread 
I love the browning bough to see 
That litters autumns dying bed 
Her latest sigh is dear to me 
Neath a spreading shady oak 
For awhile to muse I lay 
From its grains a bough I broke 
To fan the teasing flies away

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The Orchis


I saw it in the evening sun & in the morning dew 
I saw't o evenings i' the week Each sunday i' the year 
& purposed journeys came to seek When orchis flowers appear 
O they are clods that never seek For true loves living powers 
When beans grow up as green as leeks I hunt the Orchis flower

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Sunset so golden


The scene it was cheery when I met my deary
In even’s 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

But fancy is waining & love is complaining
Of beautys that time weareth thro
Summers day may be golden ripe flowers sweet beholding
But the honey of sweetness is springs bliss unfolding
Wi tender loves first interview

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