Mad Patsy said, he said to me, That every morning he could see An angel walking on the sky; Across the sunny skies of morn He threw great handfuls far and nigh Of poppy seed among the corn;...
Silver stars shine peacefully, The Canal is silver, the Poplars bear with modest grace Gossamers of silver lace, And the turf bank wears with glee Black and silver filigree.
The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill - they wind about Through the heather in and out Of the quiet sunniness. And there the goats, day after day, Stray in sunny quietness,...
The mountains stand and stare around, They are far too proud to speak; Altho' they're rooted in the ground, Up they go, peak after peak, Beyond the tallest tree, and still Soaring over house and hill...