MILKING.
Little dun cow to the apple tree tied,
Chewing the cud of reflection,
I that am milking you, sit by your side,
Lost in a sad retrospection.
Chewing the cud of reflection,
I that am milking you, sit by your side,
Lost in a sad retrospection.
Far o'er the field the tall daisies blush warm,
For rosy the sunset is dying;
Across the still valley, o'er meadow and farm,
The flush of its beauty is lying.
For rosy the sunset is dying;
Across the still valley, o'er meadow and farm,
The flush of its beauty is lying.
White foams the milk in the pail at my feet,
Clearly the robins are calling;.
Soft blows the evening wind after the heat,
Cool the long shadows are falling.
Clearly the robins are calling;.
Soft blows the evening wind after the heat,
Cool the long shadows are falling.
Little dun cow, 'tis so tranquil and sweet!
Are you light-hearted, I wonder?
What do you think about,—something to eat?
On clover and grass do you ponder?
Are you light-hearted, I wonder?
What do you think about,—something to eat?
On clover and grass do you ponder?
