Classic Poem

The thorn tree it was hid with flowers
& crabtree blossoms made the hedge
A garden blushing to the hours
Of spring & snug beneath the sedge
That grew the woodlands banks beside
Primroses shed their sweetest smile
Where pleasant then it was to hide
& bend in musings oer a stile

To wander down the narrow lane
Whose battered paths are hardly dry
Ere growing showers are shed again
From clouds that travel oer the sky
To seek the joy that never tires
Upon the heath & lonely glen
& mid its molehills furze & briars
To sit & stroll & sit agen