Page:Poems Cook.djvu/253

Where the low cottage-thatch is seen
'Mid trailing arms of jasmine green,
And the wide-flinging casement-glass
Shows the pet flower to all who pass.

Away! away-one lingering look
At valley, cottage, herds and brook;
And bowling on, we gain the hill
Crown'd with the old church and the mill.
The sun-ray plays upon the spire,
Tinging the cross with glancing fire;
The south wind freshens there, but fails
To turn the heavy sluggard sails;
The miller stands with peering eye,
To see the famed "Eclipse" go by;
His next five minutes fairly lost
In wondering what that chestnut cost;
And why they've changed the clever lay
That graced the pole the other day.

Onward the tiny hamlet comes;
The village nest of peasant homes;
The ploughman's cur wakes from his doze,
With perking ears and sniffing nose;
The child upon the red-brick floor
Crawls quickly to the open door;
The old man and the matron stand
With staring gaze and idle hand;
The maiden, smiling, nods her head
To the blithe fellow donn'd in red;
No matter what they have to do,
They all must see the mail go through.

The inn is reach'd: host, men, and boys,
Gather around with bustling noise.
Few moments serve—the harness bands.
Are flung off as by magic hands;