In Autumns life

Lo! Autumns come—wheres now the woodlands green

The charming landscape & the flowrey plain

All all are fled & left this motly scene

Of fading yellow tinghd with russet stain

Tho these seem desolatley wild and drear

Yet these are spring to what we still shall find

Yon trees must all in nakednes appear

‘Reft of their folige by the blustry wind

Just so 'twill fare with me in Autumns life

Just so Id wish—but may the trunk & all

Die with the leaves—nor taste that wintry strife

Where Sorrows urge—but still impede the fall

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No frequented paths

In solitudes where no frequented paths
But what thine own foot makes betray thine home
Stealing obtrusive there
To meditate thy end
& meadow pools torn wide by lawless floods
Where waterlilies spread their oily leaves
On which as wont the fly
Oft battens in the sun

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Hoof plod lanes

O wi thee to meet the breeze

Neath the shade of awthorn trees

By the pastures wilderd round

Where the pissmire hills abound

Where the blushing fin weeds flower

Closes up at evenings hour

Leaving then the green behind

Narrow hoof plod lanes to wind

Oak & ash embowrd beneath

Winding to the lonly heath

Were the unmolested furze

& the burdocks clinging burs

& the briars by freedom sown

Claims the wilderd spots their own

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Cold and chill

By Langley Bush I roam, but the bush hath left its hill,
On Cowper Green I stray, tis a desert strange and chill,
And the spreading Lea Close oak, ere decay had penned its will,
To the axe of the spoiler and self-interest fell a prey,
And Crossberry Way and old Round Oak's narrow lane
With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again,
Enclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain,
It levelled every bush and tree and levelled every hill
And hung the moles for traitors--though the brook is running still
It runs a sicker brook, cold and chill.

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Lawless floods

In solitudes where no frequented paths
But what thine own foot makes betray thine home
Stealing obtrusive there
To meditate thy end

& meadow pools torn wide by lawless floods
Where waterlilies spread their oily leaves
On which as wont the fly
Oft battens in the sun

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Deliciousness of solitude

 Now almost hid in trees a little gate

 Cheats us into the darkness of the wood 

 We almost think the day is wearing late 

 So dreamy is the light that dwells around 

 & so refreshing is its sombre mood 

 We feel at once shut out from sun & sky 

 All the deliciousness of solitude 

 While sauntering noisless oer the leafy ground 

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from October

Crows from the oak trees qawking as they spring 

Dashing the acorns down wi beating wing

Waking the woodlands sleep in noises low

Pattring on crimpt brakes withering brown below

While from their hollow nest the squirrels (pop)

A down the tree to pick them as they drop

The  starnel crowds that dim the muddy light

The crows and jackdaws flapping home at night

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Solitude in cities

Abscence in love is worse than any fate
Summer is winter’s desert & the spring
Is like a ruined city desolate
Joy dies & hope retires on feeble wing
Nature sinks heedless — birds unheeded sing
‘Tis solitude in cities — crowds all move
Like living death — though all to life still cling
The strongest bitterest thing that life can prove
Is womans undisguise of hate & love

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Wild sorceress

Wild sorceress me thy restless mood delights
More than the stir of summers crowded scenes
Where jostled in the din
Joy palled my ear with song
Heart-sickening for the silence that is thine
Not broken inharmoniously as now
That lone & vagrant bee
Booms faint with weary chime

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So snugly dry

O happy couple happy pair

Your little cottage fills mine eye

With longing wishes to be there

From wind & rain so snugly dry

But other scenes suround thy spot

Scenes in childhood vallued dear

Nor shall they ever be forgot

While life remains—or hope can cheer

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Joy to spare

Those yellow leaves that litter on the grass
'Mong dry brown stalks that lately blossom'd there
Instil a mournful pleasure as they pass
For melancholy has its joy to spare—

A joy that dwells in autumns lonely walks
& whispers like a vision what shall be
How flowers shall blossom on those witherd stalks
& green leaves clothe each nearly naked tree

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My rising sun

In that hamlet lives my rising sun
Whose beams hath cheered me all my lorn life long
My heart to nature there was early won
For she was natures self—& still my song
Is her through sun & shade through right & wrong
On her my memory forever dwells
The flower of Eden—evergreen of song
Truth in my heart the same love story tells
—I love the music of those village bells

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Willow wavers

An hawthorn where the burnies play

Spreads an arbour all the day

While the willow wavers grey

While the sunshine gilds the stream

With the mornings early beam

Along the East holme meadows

Come in gown & tartan pladie

& we'll ha' a happy gay day

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Sweet little bird

Sweet little bird in russet coat

The livery of the closing year
I love thy lonely plaintive note
& tiney whispering song to hear
While on the stile or garden seat
I sit to watch the falling leaves
The songs thy little joys repeat
My lonliness relieves

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Fresh delight

Each shelf in breadth so uniformly pland 

That books in eightvo size or more might stand 

For this one use I'd have the cubboard made 

Where none but choisest authors should be laid 

Such as Dermody Scott Macniel and Burn 

With rural Bloomfield Templeman and Hurn 

These are the authors that can boast the power 

Of giving raptures in a leisure hour 

& tho I read some of them every night 

Their songs near fail of adding fresh delight

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Image: My library

Eternity

The vaulted void of purple sky 
That everywhere extends
That stretches from the dazzled eye
In space that never ends
A morning whose uprisen sun 
No setting e'er shall see
A day that comes without a noon
Such is Eternity.

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Crookd pads

Labour sought a sheltering place

Neath some thick wood woven bower

While odd rain drops dampt his face

Heralds of the coming shower

Where the oak plank crosst the stream

Which the early rising lass

Climbs each morn wi gathering cream

Crookd pads tracking thro the grass

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Autumn drop

The leaves of Autumn drop by two's and three's

& the black cloud hung o'er the old low church
Is fixed as is a rock that never stirs
But look again & you may well perceive
The weather cock is in another sky
& the cloud passing leaves the blue behind
Crimson & yellow bloch'd with Iron Brown

The Autumn tans & varigates the leaves
The nuts are ripe in woods about the Town
Russet the cleared fields where the bindweed weaves

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Syren

Syren of sullen moods & fading hues
Yet haply not incapable of joy
Sweet Autumn! I thee hail
With welcome all unfeigned

& oft as morning from her lattice peeps
To beckon up the sun I seek with thee
To drink the dewy breath
Of fields left fragrant then

In solitudes where no frequented paths
But what thy own foot makes betray thy home
Stealing obtrusive there
To meditate thy end

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For want ‘o drink

Being rather faint for want o' drink
(Yet not so sadly off for chink)
I went to ha' some beer

On entering in a house at hand
(As alehouses do mostly stand
To catch all passers by)

I told my wants & sat me down
'Gen two near neighbours o' the town
A talking very sly

At which so eager o' my beer
I first ga' little heed to hear
Untill I 'gan to see

Some queerish beckons come in vogue
& hear the name o' thief & rogue
& then a look at me

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The hues of the west

The summer is waining
The autumn is staining
The hedges & woods with the hues of the west
So come in the dell
To bid it farewell
For sweets at their parting are often the best

The summer gets duller
The trees are in colour
Yet sweeter than summer was walking with thee
Thy face of rose charmed me
And ne'er could I harm thee
From the day we first sheltered beneath the oak tree

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Prowling fox

Houswives discoursing bout their hens & cocks

Spin[n]ing long stories wearing half the day

Sad deeds bewailing of the prowling fox

How in the roost the thief had knawd his way

& made their market profits all a prey

& other losses too the dames recite

Of chick & duck & gosling gone astray

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd