 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
DAY.
The sun rises bright in the air,
The dews of the morning are dry,
Men and beasts to their labours repair,
And the lark wings his way to the sky.
Now, fresh from his moss-dappled shed,
The husbandman trudges along,
And, like the lark over his head,
Begins the new day with a song.
The dews of the morning are dry,
Men and beasts to their labours repair,
And the lark wings his way to the sky.
Now, fresh from his moss-dappled shed,
The husbandman trudges along,
And, like the lark over his head,
Begins the new day with a song.
17
Just now, all around was so still,
Not a bird drew his head from his wing,
Not an echo was heard from the hill,
Not a waterfly dipped in the spring.
Now every thing wakes from its sleep,
The shepherd-boy pipes to his flock,
The common is speckled with sheep,
And cheerfully clamours the cock.
Not a bird drew his head from his wing,
Not an echo was heard from the hill,
Not a waterfly dipped in the spring.
Now every thing wakes from its sleep,
The shepherd-boy pipes to his flock,
The common is speckled with sheep,
And cheerfully clamours the cock.
Now, winding along on the road,
Half hid by the hedges so gay,
The slow waggon drags with its load,
And its bells tinkle, tinkle away.
The husbandman follows his plough,
Across the brown fallow-field's slope,
And toils in the sweat of his brow,
Repaid by the pleasures of hope.
Half hid by the hedges so gay,
The slow waggon drags with its load,
And its bells tinkle, tinkle away.
The husbandman follows his plough,
Across the brown fallow-field's slope,
And toils in the sweat of his brow,
Repaid by the pleasures of hope.
The city, so noisy and wide,
Wakes up to a thousand affairs;
While business, and pleasure, and pride
Alike are intent upon theirs.
The merchant with dignified look;
My lord and my lady so grand;
The schooIboy, with satchel and book;
And the poor hackney horse to its stand.
Wakes up to a thousand affairs;
While business, and pleasure, and pride
Alike are intent upon theirs.
The merchant with dignified look;
My lord and my lady so grand;
The schooIboy, with satchel and book;
And the poor hackney horse to its stand.
18
For the dews of the morning are flown,
And the sun rises bright in the sky;
Alike in the field and the town,
Men and beasts to their labour apply.
Now, idle no hand must remain,
Up, up, from the bed of repose,
For evening is coming again,
And time must be caught as it goes.
And the sun rises bright in the sky;
Alike in the field and the town,
Men and beasts to their labour apply.
Now, idle no hand must remain,
Up, up, from the bed of repose,
For evening is coming again,
And time must be caught as it goes.
And what is our life but a day!
A short one that soon will be o'er
It presently passes away,
And will not return any more!
To-morrow may never arise,
And yesterday's over and gone:
Then catch at to-day as it flies,
'Tis all we can reckon upon.
A short one that soon will be o'er
It presently passes away,
And will not return any more!
To-morrow may never arise,
And yesterday's over and gone:
Then catch at to-day as it flies,
'Tis all we can reckon upon.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |