[Image: Shelly Rolinson]
& oft wi shepherds
he woud sit to sigh
On past delights of
many a by gone day
& look on scenes
now naked to the eye
& talk as how they
once were clothed gay
& how the runnel
wound its weedy way
& how the willows
on its margin grew
Talk oer wi them the
rural feats of may
Who got the blossoms
neath the morning dew
That the last garland
made & where such blossoms grew
As how he coud
remember well when he
Laden wi blooming
treasures from the plain
Has mixt wi them
beneath a dotterel tree
Drove from his cowslips by a hasty rain
Drove from his cowslips by a hasty rain
The Village Minstrel (1821)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment