Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . S OF THE STREAM I. THE DIPPING-PLACE II. THE STEPPING-STONES III. THE LOCK . IV. THE MILL .UNDER THE MOON-BEAMS AT SUN-SET ....THE VILLAGE CHURCH .THE FERRY-BOAT .THE COTTAGE ON THE BEACHAT SEA AND ON SHORE THE GREEN LANE. The highway lengths of dust and stone Lie grey in blinding heat,For throbbing heads no shadow thrown, No turf for weary feet. I tempt the worn wayfarers tread— Green portals arching wide,Green grass below, green leaves oerhead, Green banks on either side, Topped by the purple oaken pales,—Park-bounds for miles away,— Clasped he
Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . S OF THE STREAM I. THE DIPPING-PLACE II. THE STEPPING-STONES III. THE LOCK . IV. THE MILL .UNDER THE MOON-BEAMS AT SUN-SET ....THE VILLAGE CHURCH .THE FERRY-BOAT .THE COTTAGE ON THE BEACHAT SEA AND ON SHORE THE GREEN LANE. The highway lengths of dust and stone Lie grey in blinding heat,For throbbing heads no shadow thrown, No turf for weary feet. I tempt the worn wayfarers tread— Green portals arching wide,Green grass below, green leaves oerhead, Green banks on either side, Topped by the purple oaken pales,—Park-bounds for miles away,— Clasped here by ivys clinging trails,There dim with lichens grey. Oer darks which my leaf-shadows weave With glints of golden sun,Shy rabbits frisk at morn and eve, And stealthy pheasants run. Ive nuts and berries for the young, Ive shelter for the old,Snatch of sweet grass for sheep that pass By me, twixt field and fold. No cot, whose smoke curls blue and coolWhere my elm-branches wave, But I have taen its babes to school,Its elders to the 1 II. DONKEYS ON THE HEATH. Wandeking thralls of wandering master,Hobbled, harness-galled and rough, Round the gnarled thorn we pasture,Picking scanty fare and tough. What to us are wind and weather,Who ask no mans pains or pity ? Better toil through gorse and heatherThan through shrill and stifling eity. Better wood-smoke sharp and fragrantThan the alleys odours foul; Better serve a merry vagrant Than bear costers stripe and scowl. Like our gipsy lords, disdaining City comfort, city care,Leave us, rough but uncomplaining, To our scanty moorland fare.
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Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
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Keywords: ., bookauthordalzielgeorge18151902, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860
