The Sailors Return
The white thorn is budding and rushes are green
The Ivy leaves rustle around the ash tree
On the sweet sunny bank blue violets are seen
That tremble beneath the wild hum of the bee
The sun beams they play on the brooks plashy ripples
Like millions o' suns in each swirl looping on
The rush nods and bows till its tassel'd head tipples
Right into the whimpled flood kissing the stones
2
'Twas down in the cowpasture just at the gloaming
I met a young woman sweet tempered and mild
The Ivy leaves rustle around the ash tree
On the sweet sunny bank blue violets are seen
That tremble beneath the wild hum of the bee
The sun beams they play on the brooks plashy ripples
Like millions o' suns in each swirl looping on
The rush nods and bows till its tassel'd head tipples
Right into the whimpled flood kissing the stones
2
'Twas down in the cowpasture just at the gloaming
I met a young woman sweet tempered and mild
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