"THE MIDGES DANCE ABOON THE BURN" THE midges dance aboon the burn; The dews begin to fa'; The paitricks doun the rushy holm Set up their e'ening ca'. Now loud and clear the blackbird's sang Rings through the briery shaw, Around the castle wa'. Beneath the golden gloamin' sky The mavis mends her lay; The redbreast pours his sweetest strains The merry wren, frae den to den, The roses fauld their silken leaves, Spread fragrance through the dell. Let others crowd the giddy court Of mirth and revelry, The simple joys that Nature yields Are dearer far to me. Robert Tannahill [1774-1810] THE PLOW ABOVE yon somber swell of land Thou seest the dawn's grave orange hue, With one pale streak like yellow sand, And over that a vein of blue. The air is cold above the woods; The blackbird holds a colloquy. "To One Long in City Pent" Over the broad hill creeps a beam, Like hope that gilds a good man's brow; And now ascends the nostril-steam Of stalwart horses come to plow. Ye rigid plowmen, bear in mind Your labor is for future hours! Advance spare not-nor look behind-- THE USEFUL PLOW A COUNTRY life is sweet! In moderate cold and heat, To walk in the air how pleasant and fair! In every field of wheat, The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers, And every meadow's brow; So that I say, no courtier may Compare with them who clothe in gray, And follow the useful plow. They rise with the morning lark, And labor till almost dark, Then, folding their sheep, they hasten to sleep While every pleasant park Next morning is ringing with birds that are singing On each green, tender bough. With what content and merriment Their days are spent, whose minds are bent To follow the useful plow. Unknown "TO ONE WHO HAS BEEN LONG IN CITY PENT" To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven,-to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, John Keats [1795-1821] THE QUIET LIFE WHAT pleasure have great princes More dainty to their choice And fortune's fate not fearing Their dealings plain and rightful, They never know how spiteful On favorite, presumptuous, Whose pride is vain and sumptuous. All day their flocks each tendeth; Where gold and pearl are plenty; For lawyers and their pleading. They 'steem it not a straw; They think that honest meaning Is of itself a law: Whence conscience judgeth plainly, They spend no money vainly. The Wish O happy who thus liveth! Yet merry it is, and quiet. 1655 William Byrd [1538?-1623] THE WISH WELL then, I now do plainly see This busy world and I shall ne'er agree; Ah, yet, ere I descend to the grave, And since Love ne'er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as guardian-angels are, Only beloved, and loving me! O fountains! when in you shall I Myself eased of unpeaceful thoughts espy? O fields! O woods! when, when shall I be made The happy tenant of your shade? Here's the spring-head of pleasure's flood! Here's wealthy Nature's treasury, Where all the riches lie, that she Has coined and stamped for good. Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetched metaphors appear; Here naught but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And naught but echo flatter. The gods, when they descended, hither From heaven did always choose their way; And therefore we may boldly say That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I And one dear She live, and embracing die! I should have then this only fear: Lest men, when they my pleasures see, And so make a city here. Abraham Cowley [1618-1667] EXPOSTULATION AND REPLY "WHY, William, on that old gray stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, "Where are your books?—that light bequeathed To beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men to their kind. "You look round on your Mother Earth, One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, "The eye-it cannot choose but see; |