Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . VI. THE OLD CHAIR-MENDERAT THE COTTAGE DOOR. Look, lasses, look ! draw close about, Though there aint much for wonder ;I puts em in, and draws em out, And then I plaits em of your rotten rush-dryers, Or second-rate cane-splitters ;The chairs I mend will see to end More than one set o sitters. Its queer how people come to trades, Or how trades come to people;Toud say Id no more call to chairs Than yon cow to a six-foot tents where I was born, And a six-foot tent I pair in,With no room for a three-legged stool, Much more a high
Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . VI. THE OLD CHAIR-MENDERAT THE COTTAGE DOOR. Look, lasses, look ! draw close about, Though there aint much for wonder ;I puts em in, and draws em out, And then I plaits em of your rotten rush-dryers, Or second-rate cane-splitters ;The chairs I mend will see to end More than one set o sitters. Its queer how people come to trades, Or how trades come to people;Toud say Id no more call to chairs Than yon cow to a six-foot tents where I was born, And a six-foot tent I pair in,With no room for a three-legged stool, Much more a high-backd chair in. Theres many ways house-dwellers have That I can find excuse for,But chairs, where theres the wholesome ground, I neer could see the use , all things for some good are sent, Best known to Tlim that sends em,And I conclude that chairs were meant To find folks bread that mends 6 VII. THE FARM-YARD. The farm-yard of my boyhood! is it truth That farm-yards were more pleasant then than now ? Or ist the golden morning-light of youth My memories with a glory doth endow ? I see the farm-yard of my boyhood still. Its aspect facing to the sheep-fed hill ; The thick leaf-piles that swayed with murmurous sound, Bee-haunted limes, elms where rooks wheeled and watch Above the roofs, green-mossed and russet-thatched, That on grey posts the fold-yard shaded round: The open cart-shed—shed and gale in one; The pigs and heifers basking in the sun, About the leg-deep litter, trod to paste In the brown runnings careless let to waste : The ragged rails, the faggot-pile beyond; The hoof-poached edge of the green-mantled pond, Its marge and surface with white feathers dotted ; The high-ridged barn with orange lichen spotted ; Eude plenty everywhere, if somewhat slattern, That seemed akin to Natures liberal ways, All alien from the trim right-angled pattern That science fits he
Size: 1418px × 1762px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthordalzielgeorge18151902, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860
