 | Poems (1865) |  |
VIII. HAYMAKING.
Many a long hard-working day
Life brings us! and many an hour of play;
But they never come now together.
Playing at work, and working in play,
As they came to us children among the hay,
In the breath of the warm June weather.
Life brings us! and many an hour of play;
But they never come now together.
Playing at work, and working in play,
As they came to us children among the hay,
In the breath of the warm June weather.
Oft with our little rakes at play,
Making believe at making hay,
With grave and steadfast endeavour;
Caught by an arm, and out of sight
Hurled and hidden, and buried light
In laughter and hay for ever.
Making believe at making hay,
With grave and steadfast endeavour;
Caught by an arm, and out of sight
Hurled and hidden, and buried light
In laughter and hay for ever.
Now pass the hours of work and of play
With a step more slow, and the summer's day
Grows short, and more cold the weather.
Calm is our work now, and quiet our play,
And we take them apart as best we may,
For they come no more together!
With a step more slow, and the summer's day
Grows short, and more cold the weather.
Calm is our work now, and quiet our play,
And we take them apart as best we may,
For they come no more together!
Dora Greenwell.
| Poems (1865) | |