Mossy walls

The weed-based arches walls that stride

Oer where the meadow water falls

Will turn thee from thy path aside

To gaze upon the mossy walls

& limpid brook that leaps along

Gilt with the summers burnished gleam

Will stop thy little tale or song

To gaze upon its crimping stream

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Freedom won

The sheep & cows were free to range as then

Where change might prompt nor felt the bonds of men

Cows went & came with every morn and night

To the wild pasture as their common right

& sheep unfolded with the rising sun

Heard the swains shout & felt their freedom won

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Window sill

I lean upon the window sill

The trees &.summer happy seem

Green sunny green they shine but still

My heart goes far away to dream

Of happiness & thoughts arise

With home-bred pictures many a one

Green lanes that shut out burning skies

& old crookd stiles to rest upon

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Wild flowers that dance

& has the springs all glorious eye

No lesson to the mind

The birds that cleave the golden sky

Things to the earth resigned

Wild flowers that dance to every wind

Do they no memory leave behind

Aye flowers the very name of flowers

That bloom in wood & glen

Bring spring to me in winter hours

& childhoods dreams again

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A heritage of happiness

I cant contain myself in summers prime 

Tuneless I hum my wonder songs into rhyme 

Mere scraps of what I think or feel or see 

Whil[e] sauntering narrow lanes – they are to me 

A heritage of happiness & yields 

Peace & calm joy from the refreshing fields 

(Fragment)

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Clare meets Patty who became his wife.

Where are you going lovely maid

The morning fine & early

Im going to Walkerd Sir she said

& made accross the barley

Her neck a thumb & finger span

Her bosom swelling over

Her waist was half the vulgar kind

An armful for a lover

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The ale house

& when the night draws on each mirthfull lout 

The ale house seeks & sets it in a roar 

& there while fidlers play they rant about 

& call for brimming tankards froathing oer 

For 'bacco smoke yed hardly see the door 

No stint they make of 'bacco & of beer 

While money lasts they shout about for more 

Resolvd to keep it merry when its here

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I love the muse

I love the verse that mild & bland
Breathes of green fields & open sky
I love the muse that in her hand
Bears flowers of native poesy
Who walks nor skips the pasture brook
In scorn but by the drinking horse
Leans o'er its little brig to look
How far the sallows lean across.

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The sun unveils his smiles

Soon as the twilight through the distant mist
In silver hemmings skirts the purple east
Ere yet the sun unveils his smiles to view
& dries the mornings chilly robes of dew
Young Hodge the horse-boy with a soodly gait
Slow climbs the stile or opes the creaky gate,
With willow switch & halter by his side
Prepared for Dobbin whom he means to ride

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Thy rifted trunk

A path old tree goes by thee crooking on

& through this little gate that claps and bangs
Against thy rifted trunk what steps hath gone
Though but a lonely way yet mystery hangs
Oer crowds of pastoral scenes recordless here
The boy might climb the nest in thy young boughs
Thats slept half an eternity in fear

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Eternity

“Tootle tootle tootle tee"
Can it be
Pride and fame must shadows be
Come and see --
Every season own her own
Bird and bee
Sing creation's music on
Nature's glee
Is in every mood and tone
Eternity.

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Narrow lane

I walk adown the narrow lane,
The nightingale is singing now,
But like to me she seems at loss
For Royce Wood and its shielding bough.
I lean upon the window sill,
The trees and summer happy seem;
Green, sunny green they shine, but still
My heart goes far away to dream.

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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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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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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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Solitary oak

Old noted oak I saw thee in a mood 

Of vague indifference—& yet with me 

Thy memory like thy fate hath lingering stood 

Like an old hermit in the lonely sea 

Of grass that waves around thee—Solitude

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Old tree thou art witherd

Old tree thou art witherd—last year I did pass 

The black bird snug hid in thy branches did sing

Thy shadow stretcht dark oer the green sprouting grass 

& thou wert as green as thy mates of the spring 

How alterd sin then not a leaf hast thou got 

Thy honours brown round thee that cloathed the tree 

The clown passeth by thee & heedeth it not 

But thourt a warm source of reflection for me

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Dance & play

The birds are gone to bed the cows are still

& sheep lie panting on each old molehill

& underneath the willows grey-green bough

Like toil a resting—lies the fallow plough

The timid hares throw daylight fears away

On the lane road to dust & dance & play

Then dabble in the grain by nought deterred

To lick the dew fall from the barleys beard

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Thou flower of spring

It does me good thou flower of spring

Thy blossoms to behold

Thou bloom'st when birds begin to sing

In purple and in gold

Along the garden-beds so neat

Thy flowers their blooms display

When sparrows chirp & lambkins bleat

& hopes look up for May

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Solitude

 

     O how sweet I cannot tell
    With thee at that hour to dwell
    Stretchd the mossy bank beside
    Lye to view the random tide
    Where no clowns has chopt from thence
    Bush nor stake to mend his fence

    Cornerd stones & pebbles round
    Breaking dasht wi mellow sound
    Wether this or that to see
    I am blest if Im wi thee

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Cows went & came

Cows went & came with every morn & night
To the wild pasture as their common right
& sheep unfolded with the rising sun
Heard the swains shout & felt their freedom won
Tracked the red fallow field & heath & plain
Or sought the brook to drink & roamed again

While the glad shepherd traced their tracks along
Free as the lark & happy as her song

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The spring head

Therefore leave the shadeles goss

Seek the spring head lin'd with moss

There your little feet may stand

Safely on the printing sand

While in full poss[ess]ion where

Purling eddies ripple clear

You with ease and plenty blest

Sip the coolest and the best

Then away and wet your throats

Cheer me with your warbling notes

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Crookd pads

Where the oak plank crosst the stream 

Which the early rising lass

Climbs each morn wi gathering cream

Crookd pads tracking thro the grass

There where willows hing their boughs

Briars & black thorns formd a bower

Stunted thick from sheep & cows

There I stood to shun the shower

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Bluebells again…

Where I plucked thee the bluebell,
'T was where the night dew fell,
And rested till morn in the cups of the flowers;
I shook the sweet posies,
Bluebells and brere roses,
As we sat in cool shade in Summer's warm hours.

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Midnight brooding

When nights last hours like haunting spirits creep

With listning terrors round the couch of sleep

& midnight brooding with its deepest dye

Seizes on fear with dismal sympathy

I dreamd a dream of somthing kin to fate

Which superst[it]ions blackest thoughts create

Something half natural to the grave that seems

Which deaths long trance of slumber aptly dreams

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Glittering pearls

I loved & wooed them in the field like gems

Of two 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 vallys where I sung

With their green drapery & crispy curls

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Weedling wild

The hawthorns here were hung with may
But still they seem in deader green
The sun e'en seems to lose its way
Nor knows the quarter it is in
I dwell on trifles like a child
I feel as ill becomes a man
& still my thoughts like weedlings wild
Grow up to blossom where they can

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