University of Virginia Library

RURAL EVENING

The sun now sinks behind the woodland green
& twittering spangles glow the leaves between
So bright & dazzling on the eye it plays
As if noons heats had kindld to a blaze
But soon it dims in red & heavier hues
& shows wild fancy cheated in her views
A mist like moister rises from the ground
& deeper blueness stains the distant round
The eye each moment as it gazes oer
Still loosing objects which it markd before
The woods at distance changing like to clouds
& spire points croodling under evenings shrouds
Till forms of things & hues of leaf & flower
In deeper shadows as by majic power
With light & all in scarce percievd decay
Puts on mild evenings sober garb of grey
While in the sleepy gloom that blackens round
Dies many a lulling hum of rural sound
From cottage door farm yard & dusty lane
Were home the cart horse tolters with the swain
& padded holm were village boys resort
& bawl enrapturd oer their evening sport
Till night awakens superstitions dread
& drives them prisoners to a restless bed
Thrice happy eve of days no more to me
Who ever thought such change belongd to thee
When like to boys whom now thy gloom surounds
I chasd the stag or playd at fox & hounds
Or wanderd down the lane with many a mate
To play at swee swaw on the pasture gate
Or on the threshold of some cottage sat
To watch the flittings of the shrieking bat
Who seemly pleasd to mock our treacherous view
Woud even swop & touch us as he flew
& vainly still our hopes to entertain
Woud stunt his rout & circle us again
Till wearied out wi many a coaxing call
Which boyish superstition loves to brawl
His shill song shrieking he betook to flight
& left us puzzld in short sighted night
Those days have fled me as from them they steal
& Ive felt losses they must shortly feel
For sure such ends makes every bosom sore
To think of pleasures they must meet no more
Now from the pasture milking maidens come
With each a swain to bear the burthen home
Who often coax them on their pleasant way
To soodle longer out in loves delay
While on a molhill or a resting stile
The simple rustics tries their arts the while
With glegging smiles & hopes & fears between
A snatching kiss to open what they mean
& all the utmost that their tongues can do
The honyd words which nature learns to woo
The wild flowers sweets of language ‘Love’ & ‘dear’
With warmest utterings meets each maidens ear
Who as by magic smit she knows not why
From the warm look that waits a wishd reply
Droops fearfull down in loves delightfull swoon
As slinks the blossom from the suns of noon
While sighs half smotherd from the throbbing breast
& broken words sweet trembling oer the rest
& cheeks in blushes burning turnd aside
Betrays the plainer what she strives to hide
The amor[o]us swain sees thro the feignd disguise
& proves the fondness she at first denies
& with all passions love & truth can move
Urges more strong the simpering maid to love
More freely using toying ways to win
Tokens that echo from the soul within
Her soft hand nipping that with ardour burns
& timid gentlyier presses its returns
& stealing pins with innoscent deciet
To loose the 'kerchief from its envyd seat
& unawares her bonnet to untye
Her dark brown ringlets wiping gently bye
To steal a kiss in seemly feignd disguise
As love yields kinder taken by supprise
While she near conquerd less resentment move[s]
& owns at last mid tears & sighs she loves
With sweetest feelings that this world bestows
Now each to each their inmost souls disclose
Vow to be true & to be truly taen
Repeat their loves & vow it oer again
& pause at loss of language to exclaim
Those purest pleasures yet with out a name
& while in highest extacy of bliss
The shepherd holds her yielding hand in his
He turns to heaven to witness what he feels
& silent shows what want of words consceals
& ere the parting moments hussles nigh
& night in deeper dye his curtain dips
Till next days evening glads the anxious eye
He swears his truth & seals it on her lips
At evens hour the truce of toil tis sweet
The sons of labour at their ease to meet
On piled bench beside the cottage door
Made up of mud & stones & sodded oer
Were rustic taste at leisure trimly weaves
The rose & straggling woodbines to the eaves
& on the crouded spot that pails enclose
The white & scarlet daisey rears in rows
& trailing peas in bunches training neat
Perfuming even with a luscious sweet
& sun flowers planting for their gilded show
That scale the windows lattice ere they blow
& sweet to 'habitants within the sheds
Peep thro the diamond pane their golden heads
Or black smiths shop were ploughs & harrows lye
Well known to every child that passes bye
By shining share that litter on the floor
& branded letters burnt upon the door
& hard burnt cinders flung as usless bye
That year by year in some spare corner lye
Were meddling boys their ready weapons meet
To pelt each other up & down the street
Or aught that pleases each mischievous eye
As harmless hogs & bullocks passing bye
Or squatting martins neath the eves at rest
That oft are wakd to mourn a ruind nest
& sparrows now that love their nests to leave
In dust to flutter at the cool of eve
For such like scenes the gossip leaves her home
& sons of labour light their pipes & come
To talk of wages wether high or low
& mumbld news that still as secrets go
As gossips knowledge of awaited births
Expected marriages & dreaded deaths
& heedless seen to all the rest may say
The beckoning lover nodds the maids away
& at a distance many an hour employs
In jealous wisperings oer their amorous joys
As childern round their teazing sports prolong
To twirl the top or bounce the hoop along
Or shout across the street their one catch all
Or progg the hous'd bee from the cotters wall
While at the parish cottage walld wi dirt
Were all the cumbergrounds of life resort
From the low door that bows two props between
Some feeble tottering dame surveys the scene
By them reminded of the long lost day
When she her self was young & went to play
& turning to the painfull scenes agen
The mournfull changes she has met since then
Her aching heart the contrast moves so keen
Een sighs a wish that life had never been
& vainly sinning while she strives to pray
Half smotherd discontent pursues its way
In wispering providence how blest shed been
If lifes last troubles shed escapd unseen
If ere want sneakd for grudgd support from pride
Shed only shard of childhoods joys & dyd
& as to talk some passing neighbours stand
& shoves their box within her tottering hand
She turns from echos of her younger years
& nips the portion of her snuff wi tears