Pen and pencil pictures from the poets . s, that he had joined a troop Of soldiers going to a distant land. He left me thus—he could not gather heart To take a farewell of me; for he feared That I should follow with my babes, and sink Beneath the misery of that wandering life. This tale did Margaret tell with many tears ;And, when she ended, I had little powerTo give her comfort, and was glad to takeSuch words of hope from her own mouth as servedTo cheer us both; but long we had not talked,Ere we built up a pile of better with a brighter eye she looked aroundAs if she had been she
Pen and pencil pictures from the poets . s, that he had joined a troop Of soldiers going to a distant land. He left me thus—he could not gather heart To take a farewell of me; for he feared That I should follow with my babes, and sink Beneath the misery of that wandering life. This tale did Margaret tell with many tears ;And, when she ended, I had little powerTo give her comfort, and was glad to takeSuch words of hope from her own mouth as servedTo cheer us both; but long we had not talked,Ere we built up a pile of better with a brighter eye she looked aroundAs if she had been shedding tears of parted. Twas the time of early spring; PEN AND PENCIL PICTURES FROM THE POETS. 63 I left her busy with her garden tools ;And well remember, oer that fence she looked,And, while I paced along the foot-way path,Called out, and sent a blessing after me,With tender cheerfulness ; and with a voiceThat seemed the very sound of happy thoughts. 64 PEN AND PENCIL PICTURES FROM THE POETS. Sabbath Morning. / AMES GlRAHA 0\V still the morning of the hallowed day!Mute is the voice of rural labour, hushedThe ploughboys whistle and the milkmaids ,The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreathOf tedded grass, mingled with fading flowers, That yester-morn bloomed waving in the breeze ; Sounds the most faint attract the ear,—the hum Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, The distant bleating midway up the sits throned on yon unmoving him who wanders oer the upland blackbirds note comes mellower from the dale ;And sweeter from the sky the gladsome larkWarbles his heaven-tuned song; the lulling brookMurmurs more gently down the deepworn glen;While from yon lowly roof, whose curling smokeOermounts the mist, is heard, at intervals,The voice of psalms,—the simple song of dove-like wings. Peace oer yon village broods;The dizzying mill-wheel rests; the anvils dinHath ceased : all, all around is fearful on t
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksubjectpoetry, bookyear1876
