Haymaking

1

Among the meadow hay cocks
'Tis beautiful to lie
When pleasantly the day looks
And gold like is the sky.

2

How lovely looks the hay-swarth
When turning to the sun
How richly looks the dark path
When the rickings all are done.

3

There's nothing looks more lovely
As a meadow field in cock
There's nothing sounds more sweetly
As the evenings six o'clock.

4

There's nothing sounds so welcome
As their singing at their toil
Sweet maidens with tan'd faces
And bosoms fit to broil.

5

And its beautiful to look on
How the hay-cleared meadow lies
How the sun pours down his welcome heat
Like gold from yonder skies.

6

There's a calm upon the level
When the sun is getting low
Smooth as a lawn is the green level
Save where swarths their pointings shew.

7

There the mother makes a journey
With a babbie at her breast
While the sun is fit to burn ye
On the sabath day at rest.

8

There's nothing like such beauty
With a woman ere compares
Unless the love within her arms
The infant which she heirs.
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