Surely Lucy love returns, Though her meaning's not reveal'd; Surely love her bosom burns, Which her coyness keeps conceal'd: Else what means that flushing cheek, When with her I chance to be?...
O happy spot! how much the sight of thee Wakes the endearments of my infancy: The very trees, through which the wild-winds sigh, Seem whispering now some joys of youth gone by;...
When once the sun sinks in the west, And dew-drops pearl the evening's breast; Almost as pale as moonbeams are, Or its companionable star, The evening primrose opes anew...
The beams in blossom with their spots of jet Smelt sweet as gardens wheresoever met; The level meadow grass was in the swath; The hedge briar rose hung right across the path,...
In politics and politicians' lies The modern farmer waxes wondrous wise; Opinionates with wisdom all compact, And een could tell a nation how to act;...
I pluck Summer blossoms, And think of rich bosoms-- The bosoms I've leaned on, and worshipped, and won. The rich valley lilies, The wood daffodillies, Have been found in our rambles when Summer begun....
There's a bonny place in Scotland, Where a little spring is found; There Nature shows her honest face The whole year round. Where the whitethorn branches, full of may, Hung near the fountain's rim,...
The faint sun tipt the rising ground, No blustering wind, the air was still; The blue mist, thinly scatter'd round, Verg'd along the distant hill: Delightful morn! from labour free...
Now is past--the happy now When we together roved Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough And Nature said we loved. Winter's blast The now since then has crept between, And left us both apart....
Beyond expression, delicately fine, Beneath her slender fingers swept the sound Of 'witching tones, melodious, divine; Soothing and soft upon the sense they wound, Join'd with the syrens' music, as it were,...
Serene she looks, she wears an angel's form, Her arching eyes are fix'd upon the sky, Gloomy, yet glist'ning 'tween black curls wip'd by, Like a bright rainbow painted on the storm:...
I seek for Peace--I care not where 'tis found: On this rude scene in briars and brambles drest, If peace dwells here, 'tis consecrated ground, And owns the power to give my bosom rest;...
Peggy said good morning and I said good bye, When farmers dib the corn and laddies sow the rye. Young Peggy's face was common sense and I was rather shy When I met her in the morning when the farmers sow the rye....
O it was a lorn and a dismal night, And the storm beat loud and high; Not a friendly light to guide me right Was there shining in the sky, When a lonely hut my wanderings met, Lost in a foreign land,...
And will she leave the lowly clowns For silk and satins gay, Her woollen aprons and drab gowns For lady's cold array? And will she leave the wild hedge rose, The redbreast and the wren,...
Agen I'll take my idle pen And sing my bonny mountain maid-- Sweet Phoebe of the Scottish glen, Nor of her censure feel afraid. I'll charm her ear with beauty's praise,...
A path, old tree, goes by thee crooking on, And through this little gate that claps and bangs Against thy rifted trunk, what steps hath gone? Though but a lonely way, yet mystery hangs...
Spring's sweets they are not fled, though Summer's blossom Has met its blight of sadness, drooping low; Still flowers gone by find beds in memory's bosom, Life's nursling buds among the weeds of woe....