. Perfect pearls of poetry and prose; the most unique, touching, inspiring and beautiful literary . brown niits downward jiattering, Leap the squirrels, rod and (he grasH-liind, on the fallow,Drop the api)liH, nd and yellow,Droj) the rusH(^t jioars and mellow. Drop the rod loaves all the day. And away, swift away,Sun mid cloud, oer liill ;nid (.basing, weave tli<ir wb d play. THE RANGER. 609 Martha Mason, Martha Mason,Prithee tell us of the reason. Why YOU mope at homo to-day :Surely smiling is not sinning;Leave your quilling, leave your spinningWhat is all your
. Perfect pearls of poetry and prose; the most unique, touching, inspiring and beautiful literary . brown niits downward jiattering, Leap the squirrels, rod and (he grasH-liind, on the fallow,Drop the api)liH, nd and yellow,Droj) the rusH(^t jioars and mellow. Drop the rod loaves all the day. And away, swift away,Sun mid cloud, oer liill ;nid (.basing, weave tli<ir wb d play. THE RANGER. 609 Martha Mason, Martha Mason,Prithee tell us of the reason. Why YOU mope at homo to-day :Surely smiling is not sinning;Leave your quilling, leave your spinningWhat is all your store of linen. If your heart is never gay ? Come away, come away !Never yet Jid sad beginning Make the task of life a play. Over-bending, till blendingWith the flaxen skein shes tending. Pale brown tresses smoothed awayFrom her face of patient sorrow,Sits she, seeking but to borrow,From the trembling hope of morrow. Solace for the weary day. Go your way, laugh and play ;Unto him who heeds the sparrow And the lily, let me praj\ With our rally rings the valley,—Join us ! cried the blue-eyed Nelly ;. .loin us! cried the laughing May? To the beach we all are , to save the task of rowing,West by north the wind is blowing, Blowing briskly down the bay! Come away, come away !Time and tide are swiftly flowing, Let us take them while we may! Never tell us that youll fail us,^Tiere the purple beach-plum mellows On the bluffs so wild and , for the oars are falling;Hark, our merry mates are calling:Tim3 it is that we were all in, Singing tideward down the bay! Nay, nay, let me stay ; lore and sad for Robert Rawlin Is my heart, she said, to-day. Vain your calling for Rob Rawlin!Some red squaw his rnoose-rneats broiling,
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectenglishliterature
