The green earth echoed to the feet Of lambs that bounded through the glade, every trace Of inward sadness had its charm; 66 was a favoured place, My boy was by my side, so slim "Now tell me, had you rather be," I said, and took him by the arm, "On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?" In careless mood he looked at me, "Now, little Edward, say why so; "For, here are woods, and green-hills warm: There surely must some reason be Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm For Kilve by the green sea." At this, my Boy hung down his head, His head he raised there was in sight, Then did the Boy his tongue unlock; O dearest, dearest Boy! my heart X. RURAL ARCHITECTURE. THERE'S George Fisher, Charles Fleming, and Reginald Shore, To the top of GREAT How did it please them to climb: They built him of stones gathered up as they lay: And so without scruple they called him Ralph Jones. Just half a week after, the wind sallied forth, From the peak of the crag blew the Giant away. Some little I've seen of blind boisterous works At remembrance whereof my blood sometimes will flag; GREAT HOW is a single and conspicuous hill, which rises towards the foot of Thirlmere, on the western side of the beautiful dale of Legberthwaite, along the high road between Keswick and Ambleside. XI. THE PET-LAMB. A PASTORAL. THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; A snow-white mountain Lamb with a Maiden at its side. No other sheep were near, the Lamb was all alone, With one knee on the grass did the little Maiden kneel, The Lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took, Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook. "Drink, pretty Creature, drink," she said in such a tone That I almost received her heart into my own. 'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a Child of beauty rare! Towards the Lamb she looked; and from that shady place I unobserved could see the workings of her face : If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring, Thus, thought I, to her Lamb that little Maid might sing: "What ails thee, Young One? what? Why pull so at thy cord? Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass as can be ; Rest, little Young One, rest; what is't that aileth thee? "What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart? Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful thou art : This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers; And that green corn all day is rustling in thy ears! "If the Sun be shining hot, do but stretch thy woollen chain, "Rest, little Young One, rest; thou hast forgot the day When my Father found thee first in places far away; Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by none, And thy mother from thy side for evermore was gone. "He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought thee home: A blessed day for thee! then whither wouldst thou roam? A faithful Nurse thou hast; the dam that did thee yean Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have been. "Thou knowest that twice a day I have brought thee in this Can 66 Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now, Then I'll yoke thee to my cart like a pony in the plough; My Playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. |