To Miss W. . .

Theres beauty in the intercourse of nature with her kind
Then come my dear Miss W ... and hear the sueing wind
That will not let thy hair alone, for all its glossy curls
But blows it in disorder like a string of broken pearls
That winnows round thy snowy neck to cool the summer heat
I wish I was the wind myself that kisses one so sweet


The steppings stones are o'er the brook, that makes such croaking groans
So lightly step Miss W ... nor fear the cockling stones
The wheat-field shields the patridge's nest that craiks at early morn
The path's not wide enough for two, so follow through the corn
Or walk before Miss W. dear with step so light and free
Thy figure and thy flowing hair are beautiful to me.


The heath is full of yellow furze, and beautiful they shine
And loved one it is passing sweet to feel thy arm in mine
The wind is shaking every bough, and beautiful it sings
This walk with thee is sweeter far among these lovely things
The knapweed flowers, and heather bells the ruddy and the blue
And all around speaks happiness so beautiful and true —


My sweetest love, loves sweetest love the corn waves in the gale
And flowers so rich on every step make beautiful the vale
The birds are chirping in the bush, the lark springs from the corn
I've never spent a sweeter hour with thee since love was born
The rabbits dance upon the hills, and lick their velvet foot
Then hop away among the brakes, or hide them in the rut —


The hawk hangs still upon the air, a speck in yonder cloud
And in the old grown hedges there the wood dove cooes aloud,
On the dwarf broom the butterfly, just like a flower alive
Basks in the sun, while toiling bees haste to and from the hive
The heath vetch clings around to every bush and tree
As my love dear Miss W — clings fondly unto thee —
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