Footpaths - from 'Out of Door Pleasures'

The day is all round me the woods and the fields
And sweet is the singing their birds music yields
The waterfall music, there's none such at home
It spreads like a sheet, and then falls into foam
The meadows are mown, what a beautiful hue
There is in green closes as I wander through
A green of all colours, yellow, brown and dark grey
While the footpaths all darkly goes winding away
Creeping onto a foot-brig that crosses a brook
Or a gate, or a stile, and how rustic they look
Some leaning so much that the maidens will go
Lower down with their buckets, and try to creep through
There is nothing more sweet in the fields and the sun
Than those dear little footpaths that o'er the fields run