Poems By Edward Quillinan. With a Memoir by William Johnston |
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LEE PRIORY, IN MAY.
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 | Poems |  |
103
LEE PRIORY, IN MAY.
WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM OF R. Q.
When squirrels dance, and humble-bees
Come murmuring out of hollow trees
To rifle primrose flowers;
When cuckoos come o'er southern seas,
And with them bring the genial breeze,
That wakes the drowsy hours—
Come murmuring out of hollow trees
To rifle primrose flowers;
When cuckoos come o'er southern seas,
And with them bring the genial breeze,
That wakes the drowsy hours—
When colts are frisking in the glade,
Lambs racing in the light and shade,
On green and woody slopes,
Where daisies, violets, spread their treasures,
As pure, as rich, as children's pleasures,
As lively as their hopes—
Lambs racing in the light and shade,
On green and woody slopes,
Where daisies, violets, spread their treasures,
As pure, as rich, as children's pleasures,
As lively as their hopes—
Then is the seasonable time,
When all things sweet are in their prime,
To ramble and to see
Fair sights and hear delightful sounds,
Where every woodland charm abounds,
Among the groves of Lee.
When all things sweet are in their prime,
To ramble and to see
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Where every woodland charm abounds,
Among the groves of Lee.
Then tender leaves on tree and bush,
Scarce hide the blackbird and the thrush,
The linnets green and brown,
The wren, and every shyest bird
Whose madrigals from morn are heard,
Until the sun goes down.
Scarce hide the blackbird and the thrush,
The linnets green and brown,
The wren, and every shyest bird
Whose madrigals from morn are heard,
Until the sun goes down.
Then that fond bird, the sylvan dove,
Whose name and nature chime to love,
Sends forth his long low call;
And all are sweetly heard in spite
Of clouds of rooks, from morn till night,
Discordant over all.
Whose name and nature chime to love,
Sends forth his long low call;
And all are sweetly heard in spite
Of clouds of rooks, from morn till night,
Discordant over all.
But when the vernal daylight fails,
Then is the time for nightingales,
The air is all their own—
Save when the gray-owl shrilly sends
His shout abroad, or sheep-bell blends
A soothing pastoral tone;
Then is the time for nightingales,
The air is all their own—
Save when the gray-owl shrilly sends
His shout abroad, or sheep-bell blends
A soothing pastoral tone;
105
Save when the distant Minster clock
Distinctly breathes with solemn shock
The oracles of time,
Which sleepless echo loves to mock,
While faintly crows the pheasant-cock,
Awaken'd by the chime.
Distinctly breathes with solemn shock
The oracles of time,
Which sleepless echo loves to mock,
While faintly crows the pheasant-cock,
Awaken'd by the chime.
They who thus in star-lit vales
Listen to the nightingales;
They may sometimes fairly doubt
That far more cunning sprites are out
Than ever taught the little throats
Of birds to trill melodious notes.
Listen to the nightingales;
They may sometimes fairly doubt
That far more cunning sprites are out
Than ever taught the little throats
Of birds to trill melodious notes.
They may believe such strains to be
The songs of ladies of the Sea,
Mermaidens come from Thanet's coves
To pass the night in Ickham groves,
And stud with pearls the flowering thorn,
To please the curious eye of Morn.
The songs of ladies of the Sea,
Mermaidens come from Thanet's coves
To pass the night in Ickham groves,
And stud with pearls the flowering thorn,
To please the curious eye of Morn.
Lee Priory, May, 1833.
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