THE POETRY OF THE FIELDS MORNING IN THE COUNTRY. WHEN from the opening chambers of the east 18 THE LINNET. Then opes the door, unfolds his fleecy care, And gladly sees them crop their morning fare! And sings some charming shepherdess's praise. THOMSON. THE LINNET. WHEN whinny braes are garlanded with gold, To pine, may ne'er the glowing wire (oh, crime accursed!` Quench, with fell agony, the shrivelling eye! Of day, thy only pleasure, be denied? THE GRASSHOPPER. But thy own song will still be left; with it, Darkling, thou'lt soothe the lingering hours away; And thou wilt learn to find thy triple perch, Thy seed-box, and thy beverage saffron-tinged. GRAHAME. 19 THE GRASSHOPPER. HAPPY insect! what can be In happiness compared to thee? The dewy Morning's gentle wine! And thy verdant cup does fill; 'Tis filled wherever thou dost tread, Nature's self's thy Ganymede, Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, 20 THE GRASSHOPPER. Man for thee does sow and plough; Farmer he, and landlord thou! Thou dost innocently joy, Nor does thy luxury destroy. The shepherd gladly heareth thee, More harmonious than he. Thee country hinds with gladness hear, Prophet of the ripened year! Thee Phoebus loves, and does inspire : Phoebus is himself thy sire. To thee of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth. Happy insect! happy thou, Dost neither age nor winter know: But when thou'st drunk, and danced, and sung Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, (Voluptuous, and wise withal, Sated with thy summer feast, Thou retir'st to endless rest. COWLEY. What, were yee born to be An houre or half's delight, And so to bid good night? 'Twas pitie nature brought yee forth Meerly to shew your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride, Like you, awhile they glide Into the grave. HERRICK. |