YE blessed Creatures, I have heard the call Ye to each other make; I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; My head hath its coronal, The fulness of your bliss, I feel I feel it all. And children are pulling On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide, Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm :— I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! But there's a Tree, of many, one, A single Field which I have looked upon, Doth the same tale repeat: Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream? WORDSWORTH. A CALM EVENING. Ir is a beauteous Evening, calm and free: The gentleness of heaven is on the sea: And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder-everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, WORDSWORTH. Now swarms the village o'er the jovial mead: The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil, Healthful and strong; full as the summer rose Blown by prevailing suns, the ruddy maid, Her kindled graces burning o'er her cheek. E'en stooping age is here; and infant hands Trail the long rake, or, with the fragrant load O'ercharg'd, amid the kind oppression roll. Wide flies the tedded* grain; all in a row Advancing broad or wheeling round the field, They spread the breathing harvest to the sun, That throws refreshful round a rural smell; Or, as they rake the green-appearing ground, And drive the dusky wave along the mead, The russet haycock rises thick behind, In order gay; while heard from dale to dale, Waking the breeze, resounds the blended voice Of happy labour, love, and social glee. THOMSON. *Tedded, tossed, or spread about in the sun; to tede grass. |