Pastoral Poems

Priekinis viršelis
Sampson Low, Son, & Marston, 1859 - 55 psl.

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7 psl. - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
6 psl. - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad : Her eyes were fair, and very fair; —Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
8 psl. - My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem, And there upon the ground I sit— I sit and sing to them. And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. The first that died was little Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away.
5 psl. - A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; — Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?
22 psl. - To-night will be a stormy night — You to the town must go; And take a lantern, Child, to light Your mother through the snow.
27 psl. - O Cuckoo ! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice ? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear, From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring ! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery...
43 psl. - Feelings and emanations — things which were Light to the sun and music to the wind; And that the old Man's heart seemed born again?
37 psl. - There dwelt a Shepherd, Michael was his name ; An old man stout of heart and strong of limb. His bodily frame had been from youth to age Of an unusual strength ; his mind was keen, Intense, and frugal, apt for all affairs ; And in his shepherd's calling he was prompt And watchful more than ordinary men. Hence...
14 psl. - I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough; My playmate thou shalt be ; and when the wind is cold Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. It will not, will not rest! — Poor creature, can it be That 'tis thy mother's heart which is working so in thee ? Things that I know not of belike to thee are dear, And dreams of things which thou canst neither see nor hear.
43 psl. - Receiving from his Father hire of praise ; Though nought was left undone which staff, or voice, Or looks, or threatening gestures, could perform. But soon as Luke, full ten years old, could stand Against the mountain blasts...

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