Gathering Wild Flowers
Ive felt a pleasure aye an inward joy
That feeds its own heart from the worlds employ
To see on summer days down some green lane
A lovely maid her leisure entertain
With cropping wild flowers from the meadow bank
& with more haste Ive crossed the oaken plank
To reach the yellow flag—her lovely eyes
Seemed wishing for—[&] inward extacys
Hath made my blood run quicker when I heard
Musics own voice give thanks as my reward
—Anon her well turned arm would reach with joy
The woodbine branches where the clambering boy
Was tearing up to rob the piegons nest
Of its two eggs—yet kindness stirred his breast
& while the maid would reach more flowers in vain
He trampled on & sweed adown the grain
Such powers hath beauty like the legends spell
To win een carlessness to use it well
& she for flowers no further cares to roam
But loaded with her garland saunters home
For every little lane & hedgrow side
Turns gardens now where pleasant flowers abide
Then hear a lovely maid with heavenly voice
That een might make an angels heart rejoice
Sing some old song & still in manners shoy
Blushing to silence as I saunter bye
The winds een sighed to loose so sweet a sound
& hummed all lonely oer the meadow ground
Fanned the hedge leaves & crinkled waves along
Of placid lakes as searching for the song
I cant contain myself in summers prime
& turn my idle wanderings into ryhme
Mere scraps of what I think or feel or see
While sauntering narrow lanes—they are to me
A herritage of happiness & yield
Peace & calm joy from the refreshing field
To shut out sunny summer in the dull
Monotony of home when field[s] are full
Of beauty & the woodlands ceasless chime
Aerial music mysterys grand sublime
Tis harrassing as for the mind to dwell
Oer freedoms visions in a prison cell
The boy een thinks so in his eagerness
& shares the summers glory to excess
While in the pool he sees the rush flower stand
& wishes such fine blossoms grew on land
Till patience can no more—the kickling stone
He threw to stand on—soon is overthrown
& splashed & wetshod yet he hardly sighs
& drys his stockings while he wears the prize
Within his hat & empires finer crowns
Neer felt the pleasures of such simple clowns
Theirs is the universal joy that brings
Home comforts to the bosoms of all things
A openhearted hope without one fear
A sun that casts no shadow any where
Comes with this joyous childhood of the year
Blessing all life & smiling even here
That feeds its own heart from the worlds employ
To see on summer days down some green lane
A lovely maid her leisure entertain
With cropping wild flowers from the meadow bank
& with more haste Ive crossed the oaken plank
To reach the yellow flag—her lovely eyes
Seemed wishing for—[&] inward extacys
Hath made my blood run quicker when I heard
Musics own voice give thanks as my reward
—Anon her well turned arm would reach with joy
The woodbine branches where the clambering boy
Was tearing up to rob the piegons nest
Of its two eggs—yet kindness stirred his breast
& while the maid would reach more flowers in vain
He trampled on & sweed adown the grain
Such powers hath beauty like the legends spell
To win een carlessness to use it well
& she for flowers no further cares to roam
But loaded with her garland saunters home
For every little lane & hedgrow side
Turns gardens now where pleasant flowers abide
Then hear a lovely maid with heavenly voice
That een might make an angels heart rejoice
Sing some old song & still in manners shoy
Blushing to silence as I saunter bye
The winds een sighed to loose so sweet a sound
& hummed all lonely oer the meadow ground
Fanned the hedge leaves & crinkled waves along
Of placid lakes as searching for the song
I cant contain myself in summers prime
& turn my idle wanderings into ryhme
Mere scraps of what I think or feel or see
While sauntering narrow lanes—they are to me
A herritage of happiness & yield
Peace & calm joy from the refreshing field
To shut out sunny summer in the dull
Monotony of home when field[s] are full
Of beauty & the woodlands ceasless chime
Aerial music mysterys grand sublime
Tis harrassing as for the mind to dwell
Oer freedoms visions in a prison cell
The boy een thinks so in his eagerness
& shares the summers glory to excess
While in the pool he sees the rush flower stand
& wishes such fine blossoms grew on land
Till patience can no more—the kickling stone
He threw to stand on—soon is overthrown
& splashed & wetshod yet he hardly sighs
& drys his stockings while he wears the prize
Within his hat & empires finer crowns
Neer felt the pleasures of such simple clowns
Theirs is the universal joy that brings
Home comforts to the bosoms of all things
A openhearted hope without one fear
A sun that casts no shadow any where
Comes with this joyous childhood of the year
Blessing all life & smiling even here
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