In the cowslip pips I lie, Hidden from the buzzing fly, While green grass beneath me lies, Pearled with dew like fishes’ eyes… Here I lie, a clock—o’—clay,

When in summer thou walkest In the meads by the river, And to thyself talkest, Dost thou think of one ever— A lost and a lorn one

O take this world away from me; Its strife I cannot bear to see, Its very praises hurt me more Than een its coldness did before, Its hollow ways torment me now

The firetail tells the boys when n… And tweets and flies from every pa… The yellowhammer never makes a noi… But flies in silence from the nois… The boys will come and take them e…

The shepherd on his journey heard… His dog among the bushes barking h… The ploughman ran and gave a heart… He found a weary fox and beat him… The ploughman laughed and would ha…

True as the church clock hand the… He plods about his toils and reads… And at the blacksmith’s shop his h… To talk of 'Lunun’ as a foreign l… For from his cottage door in peace…

On the eighteenth of October we l… All ready to set sail, with a fres… A fortnight and nine days we in th… And no breeze ever reached us or s… Three ships of war had we, and the…

Infant’ graves are steps of angels… Earth’s brightest gems of innocenc… God is their parent, and they need… He takes them to His bosom from e… A bud their lifetime and a flower…

Gay was the Maid of Ocram As lady eer might be Ere she did venture past a maid To love Lord Gregory. Fair was the Maid of Ocram

Now summer is in flower and nature… Is never silent round her sultry b… Insects as small as dust are never… Wi’ glittering dance and reeling i… And green wood fly and blossom hau…

Where slanting banks are always wi… The daisy is in blossom even now; And where warm patches by the hedg… The cottager when coming home from… Brings home a cowslip root in flow…

How sweet and pleasant grows the w… Through summer time again While Landrails call from day to… Amid the grass and grain We hear it in the weeding time

_Now_ is past—the happy _now_ When we together roved Beneath the wildwood’s oak—tree bo… And Nature said we loved. Winter’s blast

And will she leave the lowly clown… For silk and satins gay, Her woollen aprons and drab gowns For lady’s cold array? And will she leave the wild hedge…