Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . 4 i V. THE GLEANERS AT THE STILE. By paths that ran through spiked sheaves, Or stubbles russet green,Grirt with their belt of living leaves, I strolled to sketch the scene. Grold framed in emerald! hedge-row bound, New-reaped or wheat-clad square,And purple fallow, to the round Of woodland-distance fair. Eoot-ways that wound through corn-flowers blue, lied poppies, nodding wheat,To brakes, where, light in shadow, grew The stately meadow-sweet. A group of gleaners came in sight, Ilesting about a stile;Unseen, I marked their dark and light, They ta
Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . 4 i V. THE GLEANERS AT THE STILE. By paths that ran through spiked sheaves, Or stubbles russet green,Grirt with their belt of living leaves, I strolled to sketch the scene. Grold framed in emerald! hedge-row bound, New-reaped or wheat-clad square,And purple fallow, to the round Of woodland-distance fair. Eoot-ways that wound through corn-flowers blue, lied poppies, nodding wheat,To brakes, where, light in shadow, grew The stately meadow-sweet. A group of gleaners came in sight, Ilesting about a stile;Unseen, I marked their dark and light, They talking free the while. Their talk ran on their harvest-spoil, The bushels gleaned and shelled;Each boasting how her childish toil The household store had swelled. The meadow-sweet breathed fragrantly, The elms swung overhead,But what of beauty spoke to me, To them spoke, first, of bread. Thenceforth the sweetness of the scene Methought, more solemn grew,With threads of human toil and teen Enwoven through and 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 ein.
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