Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . III. THE MILL. Black and weather-warped and old,Looking oer the windy wold,Gaunt and grim and rearing highIts ragged sails against the sky,For many a year hath stood the mill;Hath heard the plovers eager cry,Hath seen the blue cloud-shadows flyAcross the heath, athwart the and deaths, with lives between,Of many a miller, it hath seen;Many a pair of stones worn out,Many a set of gearing stout,But change of fashion, time and tide,The ancient mill hath still its place upon the hill—Sweeping sails or standing still—Emblem of end
Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape . III. THE MILL. Black and weather-warped and old,Looking oer the windy wold,Gaunt and grim and rearing highIts ragged sails against the sky,For many a year hath stood the mill;Hath heard the plovers eager cry,Hath seen the blue cloud-shadows flyAcross the heath, athwart the and deaths, with lives between,Of many a miller, it hath seen;Many a pair of stones worn out,Many a set of gearing stout,But change of fashion, time and tide,The ancient mill hath still its place upon the hill—Sweeping sails or standing still—Emblem of enduring with a constant mind,Though it serve the inconstant 3 IV. THE LITTLE ANGLERS. Swiftly sped the summer-day,By the becks brown shallows, Swiftly in their whirling playFlashed the summer swallows, Dipping wings and then away,In and out the golden sallows. Fragrant bean and clover flowersThe warm winds seemed to winnow, For perfume of the golden hoursWhen Ave fished the minnow. Darker now the summer skies. Summer hours seem shorter,Summer breezes seem to rise From a chillier quarter,As for goldfish we throw flies, Greybeards in more troubled water. Hemlock rank and thistle hoar,The cold winds seem to winnow, And bear no more the scent they boreWhen we fished the minnow.
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License: Licensed
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Keywords: ., bookauthordalzielgeorge18151902, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860
