 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Cows waiting at the Pasture Gate
The herd is standing on the hill,
Or lying on the ground;
Their number now is all complete,
The last stray wanderer found.
Or lying on the ground;
Their number now is all complete,
The last stray wanderer found.
They wait the opening of the gate,
How peaceful their repose!
It soothes the mind, and o'er the scene
A quiet beauty throws.
How peaceful their repose!
It soothes the mind, and o'er the scene
A quiet beauty throws.
O'er the wide pastures they have roamed
Through all the summer day,
Grazing at will o'er hill and vale,
Where'er they chanced to stray.
Through all the summer day,
Grazing at will o'er hill and vale,
Where'er they chanced to stray.
At some cool spring they quench their thirst,
Whose source is never dry;
The water trickling from the rock
Yields still a full supply.
Whose source is never dry;
The water trickling from the rock
Yields still a full supply.
O'er rocky hills their pathway winds,
Through swamps and meadows green;
Till resting 'neath the distant pines,
The herd at noon is seen.
Through swamps and meadows green;
Till resting 'neath the distant pines,
The herd at noon is seen.
When in the west the sun declines,
The cowherd's voice they hear,
And homeward turn; his barking dog
Still hanging on their rear.
The cowherd's voice they hear,
And homeward turn; his barking dog
Still hanging on their rear.
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And, winding slowly o'er the hills,
The deep worn path is trod;
Till on the last they waiting stand,
Or rest upon the sod.
The deep worn path is trod;
Till on the last they waiting stand,
Or rest upon the sod.
The keeper opens wide the gate,
For now the hour is come;
And lowing down the busy street
The cows are driven home.
For now the hour is come;
And lowing down the busy street
The cows are driven home.
Poem No. 509; c. 4 August 1876
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |