Still the grazing kine
The little path winds on & on
While sauntering noiseless oer the leafy ground
The air we breathe seems void of every trace
Of earth & all its trouble & the mind
Yearns for a dwelling in so sweet a place
From troubles noise such stillness seemeth by
Yet still the little path winds on & on
Down hedgerow sides & many a pastoral charm
We soon forget the charm of poesy gone
In the still woodland with its silent balm
The summer’s voice is still
The autumn's come again
By September
The white-thorn tree
On thy gentle stream
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The nearest way
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Mist simmers thin
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The mingling dye
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Web is spun
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The low of the cow
Where I Strolled With Patty Adown In The Glen
& Spent Summer Evenings & Sundays Unseen
How Sweet The Hill Brow
& The Low Of The Cow
& The Sunshine That Gilded The Bushes So Green
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Photo by my friend #JohnAbbott
The dewey cheek of morning
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Photo by my friend #JohnAbbott
Faded colours mournd
The fading Autumn all resighnd
As consious of her dying state
Th’influence of the Sun declind
& hopeless yielded to her fate
The Trees their faded colours mournd
& shepherds with a tearfull eye
Reviewd their changes as they turnd
& thought of winter with a sigh
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Meek innoscence
A scarlet host display
Natures sweetest pledge
The blackbird startles from the homestead hedge,
Love lies bleeding
Timid hares
Accursed wealth
Accursed wealth oer bounding human laws
Of every evil thou remains the cause
Victims of want those wretches such as me
Too truly lay their wretchedness to thee
Thou art the bar that keeps from being fed
& thine our loss of labour & of bread
Thou art the cause that levels every tree
& woods bow down to clear a way for thee
Glitter like pearls
Sauntering noiseless
So dreamy is the light that dwells around
Loosely flowing
Her hair bound in tortoise or else loosley flowing
(Lo each is a beautiful show)
More blacker than jet the fine ringlets seem glowing
Nay they rival the Micaelmas sloe.
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An early photo (1860) by #ClementinaLadyHawarden of one of her daughters
Waking fond desire
Like lilies on the lake
The changing face of heaven
Tis lovley now to turn ones eye
The rosy day
The rosy day was sweet and young,
Had just her summer anthem sung,
And trembling dropped in the corn;
The dew-rais'd flower was perk and proud,
The butterfly around it play'd;
The sky's blue clear, save woolly cloud
That pass'd the sun without a shade.
Twittering swallows
By twittering swallows we percieve
So is the life of man
Artist Print by my friend #CarryAkroyd





























