Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) By William Barnes |
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| I. | SONNET I. RURAL NATURE. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
 | Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) |  |
SONNET I. RURAL NATURE.
Ye airs of sunny spring that softly blow
With whisp'ry breathings o'er the grasses blade,
Ye grass-bespangling flow'rs—too soon to fade—
That now in gemlike brightness round me grow:
Ye saplings, and ye greenbough'd trees, that throw
Your waving shadows on the sunny glade;
Thou lowland stream, whose winding waters flow,
Like molten silver, to the hoarse cascade:
With whisp'ry breathings o'er the grasses blade,
Ye grass-bespangling flow'rs—too soon to fade—
That now in gemlike brightness round me grow:
Ye saplings, and ye greenbough'd trees, that throw
Your waving shadows on the sunny glade;
Thou lowland stream, whose winding waters flow,
Like molten silver, to the hoarse cascade:
Give vice the noisy town; and let the great
Ride mighty o'er the earth with pride and pow'r;
Give avarice his gold: but let me flee
Ride mighty o'er the earth with pride and pow'r;
Give avarice his gold: but let me flee
Where cold and selfish hearts live not to hate
And scorn. Oh take me to thy lonely bow'r
Sweet rural nature! Life is dear for thee.
And scorn. Oh take me to thy lonely bow'r
Sweet rural nature! Life is dear for thee.
| Poems, partly of rural life, (in national English.) | |