Sunshine in the Country: A Book of Rural Poetry

Richard Griffin, 1861 - 158 páginas

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Página 84 - The turtle to her mate hath told her tale. Summer is come, for every spray now springs: The hart hath hung his old head on the pale; The buck in brake his winter coat he flings ; The fishes flete with new repaired scale.
Página 36 - And see the rivers, how they run Through woods and meads, in shade and sun ! Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, Wave succeeding wave, they go, A various journey to the deep, Like human life, to endless sleep...
Página 39 - She woos the tardy Spring: Till April starts, and calls around The sleeping fragrance from the ground; And lightly o'er the living scene Scatters his freshest, tenderest green. New-born flocks, in rustic dance, Frisking ply their feeble feet; Forgetful of their wintry trance The birds his presence greet: But chief, the skylark warbles high His trembling thrilling ecstasy; And, lessening from the dazzled sight, Melts into air and liquid light.
Página 35 - And ancient towers crown his brow, That cast an awful look below ; Whose ragged walls the ivy creeps, And with her arms from falling keeps : So both a safety from the wind On mutual dependence find. 'Tis now the raven's bleak abode ; Tis now th...
Página 88 - Th" ethereal mountain, and the distant main. But why so far excursive ? when at hand, Along these blushing borders, bright with dew, And in yon mingled wilderness of flowers, Fair-handed Spring unbosoms every grace ; Throws out the snow-drop and the crocus first...
Página 87 - Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place : Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink With eager bite of Pike, or Bleak, or Dace ; And on the world and my Creator think : Whilst some men strive ill-gotten goods t" embrace t And others spend their time in base excess Of wine, or worse, in war or wantonness.
Página 58 - Nor rural sights alone, but rural sounds Exhilarate the spirit, and restore The tone of languid nature. Mighty winds, That sweep the skirt of some far-spreading wood Of ancient growth, make music not unlike 185 The dash of Ocean on his winding shore...
Página 72 - O what a glory doth this world put on For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks On duties well performed, and days well spent ! For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings, He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death Has lifted up for all, that he shall go To his long resting-place without a tear.
Página 62 - Rural confusion ! On the grassy bank Some ruminating lie ; while others stand Half in the flood, and, often bending, sip The circling surface.
Página 13 - O'er all the fragrant bowers, Thou need'st not be ashamed to show Thy satin-threaded flowers ; For dull the eye, the heart is dull That cannot feel how fair, Amid all beauty, beautiful Thy tender blossoms are...

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