Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd
Joy or despair
Peggy ye might bin my death wi yer scorning
Sweet Mary
How could I how should I — that loved her so early
Forget when I've sung of her beauty in song
How could I forget what I've worshiped so dearly
From boyhood to manhood and all my life long
As leaves to the branches in summer comes daily
& blossoms will bloom on the stalk & the tree
To her beauty I'll cling & i'll love her as truly
& think of sweet Mary wherever I be
The nettle
In sunshine nodding to the angry tide
Of winds that winnows bye—these one & all
Makes up the harmony of Spring—& all
That passes feel a sudden love for flowers
They look so green—& when the soft showers fall
They grow so fast—Dock Burdocks Henbane—all
Who loves not wild flowers bye the old stone wall
The dew falls
The Dew falls on the weed & on the flower
The rose & thistle bathe their heads in dew
The lowliest heart may have its prospering hour
The saddest bosom meet its wishes true
E'en I may joy love happiness renew
Though not the sweets of my first early days
When one sweet face was all the loves I knew
& my soul trembled on her eyes to gaze
Whose very censure seemed intended praise
Our footsteps
Old Heath
I love to see the old heaths withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze & ling
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze & ling
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow & flaps his melancholy wing
& oddling crow in idle motions swing
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
& for the awe round fields & closen rove
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
& hang on little twigs & start again
The Fatherless
The Orphans grief & sorrow so severe
To every heart in pitys language speak
E'en the rough sexton cant withhold the tear
That steals unnoticd down his furrowd cheek
Who but is grievd to see the Fatherless
Stroll with their rags unnoticd through the street
What eye but moistens at their sad distress
& sheds compassions tear whene'er they meet
In sweet delight
Sweet bottle shaped flower of lushy red
Born when the summer wakes her warmest breeze
Among the meadows waving grasses spread
Or neath the shade of hedge or clumping trees
Bowing on slender stem thy heavy head
In sweet delight I view thy summer bed
& hark the drone of heavy humble bees
Along thy honeed garden gailey led
Down corn field striped balks & pasture leas—
Fond warmings of the soul that long has fled
Wild hedge rose
I wish I was the wild hedge rose
Upon thy bonny bosom now
To feel thy thumb and finger nip
About my twisted stem
The flowers now toutch thy ruby lip
To kiss their mornings gem
My flowers would kiss those lips o' thine
That kiss'd the dewdrops made divine
Charm in nature
There is a charm in nature felt and seen
In every season of the varied year
In winters frost in springs reviving green
'Tis every where
In foreign lands how beautiful the sight
Over a thousand mountains of snow sprey
With nought of green—but mountains pale as light
And all the way
The springs green herbage full of flowers
And fields where lives the lark mid greener grain
We love and worship them in April hours
Then wish again
All nature
#photography #poetry #environment
Towers of heaven
The abodes of one that instant suns divine
The droning bee
Natures adorning
Images by my friend #CarryAkroyd
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Insects strangers
The ruddy child nursed in the lap of care
In toils rude strife to do his little share
Beside his mother poddles oer the land
Sun burnt and stooping with a weary hand
Picking his tiney glean of corn or wheat
While crackling stubbles wound his little feet
Full glad he often is to sit awhile
Upon a smooth green baulk to ease his toil
And feign would spend an idle hour to play
With insects strangers to the moiling day
Creeping about each rush and grassy stem
And often wishes he was one of them
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The birds…
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Images by my friend #CarryAkroyd
The language of sighs
The Rose Of The World Was Dear Mary To Me
In The Days Of My Boyhood & Youth
I Told Her In Songs Where My Heart Wished To Be
& My Songs Were The Language of Truth
I Told Her In Looks When I Gazed In Her Eyes
That Mary Was Dearest To Me
I Told Her In Words & The Language Of Sighs
Where My Whole Heart’s Affections Would Be
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In snugger shades
From covert hedge on either side
The blackbirds flutter'd terrified
Mistaking me for pilfering boy
That doth too oft their nests destroy
& ‘prink, prink, prink,’ they took to wing
In snugger shades to build & sing
From tufted grass or bush the hare
Oft sprung from her endanger'd lair
Surprise was startled on her rout
So near ones feet she bolted out
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Luscious green
I love the luscious green before the bloom
The leaves & grass & even beds of moss
When leaves gin bud & spring prepares to come
The Ivys evergreen the brown green gorse
Plots of green weeds that barest roads engross
In fact I love the youth of each green thing
The grass the trees the bushes & the moss
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Image by my friend #RachelBurch
The stream a silver streak between
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In livery dress
The black and yellow bumble first on wing
To buzz among the sallow's early flowers,
Hiding its nest in holes from fickle spring
Who stints his rambles with her frequent showers;
And one that may for wiser piper pass,
In livery dress half sables and half red,
Who laps a moss ball in the meadow grass
And hoards her stores when April showers have fled
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Yield to joy
Lovley sweets that never cloy
Happiest hours that yield to joy
Hedgerows dappl'd green & white
Look so graceful to the sight
Meadows cloth'd in yellow hue
Banks streak'd oer with vi'lets hue
Yet their charms will soon decay
Soon they'l fade & dye away
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Beautiful mortals
In showers and sunny weather
Ye beautiful spring hours
Sunshine and all together
I love wild flowers
Then fall on the meadow flowers
Cowslips and enemonies all come with spring
Beaded with first showers
The skylarks in the cowslips sing
I love wild flowers
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Misterious skill
To thee earth swarmd with lovly things
The butterflye with spangld wings
& dragon flye & humble bee
Humd dreams of paradise with thee
& o thou fairest dearest still
If natures wild misterious skill
Beams that same rapture in thine eye
& left a love that cannot dye
If that fond taste was born to last
Nor vanishd with the summers past
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Image by my friend #JohnAbbott
Lammas
A posting for Lammas day (1st August)
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Teazle burrs
I miss the heath its yellow furze
Mole-hills and rabbit tracks that lead
Through besom-ling & teazle burrs
That spread a wilderness indeed
The woodland oaks & all below
That their white-powdered branches shield
The mossy paths the very crow
Croaks music in my native field
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Image by my friend #JohnAbbott