Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

13 erthygl ar y dudalen hon

SONG OF THE HAYMAKERS.

Newyddion
Dyfynnu
Rhannu

SONG OF THE HAYMAKERS. Th. noontide is hot. and our foreheads are brown, Our pa!ms are all shining and hard Right close is our work with the wain and the fork, And but poor is our daily i( %-ar(l. But there's joy in the sunshine, and mirth in the lark That skims whistling away over head; Our spirits are light, though our skins may be dark, Ana there's peace with our meal of brown bread. We dwell in the meadows—we toil on the sod, Far away from the city's dud gloom; And more jolly are we, though in rags we may be, Than the pale faces over the loom. Then a song and a cheer for the bonnie grel n stack, Climbing up to the sun wide and high For the pi'chers, and rakers, and merry haymakers. And ti e beautiful Midsummer sky. Come forth, gentle ladi,s!-come forth, dainty sirs And lend us your presence awhile Your garments wdl gather no stain from the burs, And a freckle won't tarnish your smile. Our carpet's more soft for your delicate feet Than the pile of your velveted floor; And the air of our balm swarth is surely as sweet As the perfume of Araby's shore. Com-e forth, noble masters !—come forth to the field, Where freshness and health may be found Where the wind-rows are spread for the butterfly's bed, And the clover-bloom falleth around. Then a song and a cheer for the bonnie green stack, Climbing up to the sun wide and high For the pitchers, and rakers, and merry haymakers, And the beautiful Midsummer sky. Hold fast!" cri the waggoner, loudlv and quick, Ar.d then comes the hearty •' Gee-wo While the cunning old team-horses manage to pick A sweet mouthful to munch as they go. The tawny-faced children con,e round us to play, And bravely they scatter the heap TilHhe tiniest one, all outspent with the fun, I« curi'd up with the sheep-dog, asleep. Old age sittcth down on the haycock's fair crown, At the close of our labouring day And wishes his life, like the grass at his feet, Mry be pure at its passing away." Then a song and a cheer for the bennie green stack, Climbing up to the sun wide and high; For the pitchers, and rakers, and merry hay-makers. And the beautiful Midsummer sky. ELIZA COOK.

THE CUHSE OF GAMBLING.I

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