 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
RURAL EVENING
The whip cracks on the plough-team's flank,
The thresher's flail beats duller.
The round of day has warmed a bank
Of cloud to primrose colour.
The thresher's flail beats duller.
The round of day has warmed a bank
Of cloud to primrose colour.
The dairy girls cry home the kine,
The kine in answer lowing;
And rough-haired louts with sleepy shouts
Keep crows whence seed is growing.
The kine in answer lowing;
And rough-haired louts with sleepy shouts
Keep crows whence seed is growing.
The creaking wain, brushed through the lane
Hangs straws on hedges narrow;
And smoothly cleaves the soughing plough,
And harsher grinds the harrow.
Hangs straws on hedges narrow;
And smoothly cleaves the soughing plough,
And harsher grinds the harrow.
Comes, from the road-side inn caught up,
A brawl of crowded laughter,
Thro' falling brooks and cawing rooks
And a fiddle scrambling after.
A brawl of crowded laughter,
Thro' falling brooks and cawing rooks
And a fiddle scrambling after.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |