Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

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Thou hast not seen plains full of bloom

Where green things had such little room

They pleased the eye like fairer flowers—

Sweet Stay-at-Home, all these long hours.

Sweet Well-content, sweet Love-one-place,

Sweet, simple maid, bless thy dear face;

For thou hast made more homely stuff

Nurture thy gentle self enough;

I love thee for a heart that's kind—

Not for the knowledge in thy mind.

William H. Davies

45

Rich in the waning light she sat

While the fierce rain on the window spat.

The yellow lamp-glow lit her face,

Shadows cloaked the narrow place

She sat adream in. Then she'd look

Idly upon an idle book;

Anon would rise and musing peer

Out at the misty street and drear;

Or with her loosened dark hair play,

Hiding her fingers' snow away;

And, singing softly, would sing on

When the desire of song had gone.

"O lingering day!" her bosom sighed,

"O laggard Time!" each motion cried.

Last she took the lamp and stood

Rich in its flood,

And looked and looked again at what

Her longing fingers' zeal had wrought;