 | Ochil Idylls and Other Poems |  |
160
TO CARNBO.
A bright August morningThe braes was adorning
(How lovely 'tis here
At this time of the year!)
As on between hedges,
O'er brigs without ledges,
Past farms on the hillside,
A mill by the rillside,
A snow-plough, grown over
With dockweed and clover;
A rusty road-scraper;
And calves that did caper
Round cows who, unheeding,
Went on with their feeding;
And kyloes, red, umber,
And black, without number;
And stone-bings; and bees,
A beehive, and trees;
An ass with three tinkers;
A man that wore blinkers,
And stood among stones,
And rapp'd them with groans;
And birds that alighted,
And bobb'd, and flew o'er me,
I journey'd, delighted,
Hope tripping before me.
| Ochil Idylls and Other Poems | |