 | Snow-berries. A book for young folks |  |
58
THE COW-BOY.
Day after day, when the tawny-bills
Were twittering through the boughs,
“Sook! sook!” across the sunset hills
He would call his mother's cows.
Were twittering through the boughs,
“Sook! sook!” across the sunset hills
He would call his mother's cows.
“Whee! whee!” and then the thrum and fall
Of the clumsy meadow-bar,
And we knew he had found them one and all,
“Mottle,” and “Rose,” and “Star.”
Of the clumsy meadow-bar,
And we knew he had found them one and all,
“Mottle,” and “Rose,” and “Star.”
A merry cry, and then a hush,
And then a merrier ring,—
He had found a bird's-nest in a bush,
And was happier than a king.
And then a merrier ring,—
He had found a bird's-nest in a bush,
And was happier than a king.
59
“Plash and plash!” and “Sook, sook!”
And tramp and trill again,—
He had brought his cows across the brook,
And was singing up the lane.
And tramp and trill again,—
He had brought his cows across the brook,
And was singing up the lane.
Spingspang! whish! in the bucket cool
And burnished silver-bright,
And then he had gotten his milking-stool,
And was milking with all his might.
And burnished silver-bright,
And then he had gotten his milking-stool,
And was milking with all his might.
Clump! clatter! spinkle! span!
He had done with the milking-chore,
And was setting each shining and shallow pan
On the watery “spring-house” floor.
He had done with the milking-chore,
And was setting each shining and shallow pan
On the watery “spring-house” floor.
Days went and came, and came and went,
And over the sunset hills
No more his cheerful call was blent
With the twittering tawny-bills.
And over the sunset hills
No more his cheerful call was blent
With the twittering tawny-bills.
But in the dingle and in the dell
Deep silence held the rule;
The little lad that we loved so well
Was gone to the grammar-school.
Deep silence held the rule;
The little lad that we loved so well
Was gone to the grammar-school.
Years came and went, and went and came;
He had made, or mastered fate,
For the little cow-boy's humble name
Was the name that ruled the state.
He had made, or mastered fate,
For the little cow-boy's humble name
Was the name that ruled the state.
| Snow-berries. A book for young folks | |