12Riding adown the country lanesOne day in spring,Heavy at heart with all the painsOf man’s imagining:—The mist was not yet melted quiteInto the sky:The small round sun was dazzling white,The merry larks sang high:The grassy northern slopes were laidIn sparkling dew,Out of the slow-retreating shadeTurning from sleep anew:Deep in the sunny vale a burnRan with the lane,O’erhung with ivy, moss and fernIt laughed in joyful strain:And primroses shot long and lushTheir cluster’d cream:Robin and wren and amorous thrushCarol’d above the stream:The stillness of the lenten airCall’d into soundThe motions of all life that wereIn field and farm around:So fair it was, so sweet and bright,The jocund SpringAwoke in me the old delightOf man’s imagining,Riding adown the country lanes:The larks sang high.—O heart! for all thy griefs and painsThou shalt be loth to die.
12Riding adown the country lanesOne day in spring,Heavy at heart with all the painsOf man’s imagining:—The mist was not yet melted quiteInto the sky:The small round sun was dazzling white,The merry larks sang high:The grassy northern slopes were laidIn sparkling dew,Out of the slow-retreating shadeTurning from sleep anew:Deep in the sunny vale a burnRan with the lane,O’erhung with ivy, moss and fernIt laughed in joyful strain:And primroses shot long and lushTheir cluster’d cream:Robin and wren and amorous thrushCarol’d above the stream:The stillness of the lenten airCall’d into soundThe motions of all life that wereIn field and farm around:So fair it was, so sweet and bright,The jocund SpringAwoke in me the old delightOf man’s imagining,Riding adown the country lanes:The larks sang high.—O heart! for all thy griefs and painsThou shalt be loth to die.
Riding adown the country lanesOne day in spring,Heavy at heart with all the painsOf man’s imagining:—The mist was not yet melted quiteInto the sky:The small round sun was dazzling white,The merry larks sang high:The grassy northern slopes were laidIn sparkling dew,Out of the slow-retreating shadeTurning from sleep anew:Deep in the sunny vale a burnRan with the lane,O’erhung with ivy, moss and fernIt laughed in joyful strain:And primroses shot long and lushTheir cluster’d cream:Robin and wren and amorous thrushCarol’d above the stream:The stillness of the lenten airCall’d into soundThe motions of all life that wereIn field and farm around:So fair it was, so sweet and bright,The jocund SpringAwoke in me the old delightOf man’s imagining,Riding adown the country lanes:The larks sang high.—O heart! for all thy griefs and painsThou shalt be loth to die.
Riding adown the country lanesOne day in spring,Heavy at heart with all the painsOf man’s imagining:—The mist was not yet melted quiteInto the sky:The small round sun was dazzling white,The merry larks sang high:The grassy northern slopes were laidIn sparkling dew,Out of the slow-retreating shadeTurning from sleep anew:Deep in the sunny vale a burnRan with the lane,O’erhung with ivy, moss and fernIt laughed in joyful strain:And primroses shot long and lushTheir cluster’d cream:Robin and wren and amorous thrushCarol’d above the stream:The stillness of the lenten airCall’d into soundThe motions of all life that wereIn field and farm around:So fair it was, so sweet and bright,The jocund SpringAwoke in me the old delightOf man’s imagining,Riding adown the country lanes:The larks sang high.—O heart! for all thy griefs and painsThou shalt be loth to die.
Riding adown the country lanesOne day in spring,Heavy at heart with all the painsOf man’s imagining:—
Riding adown the country lanes
One day in spring,
Heavy at heart with all the pains
Of man’s imagining:—
The mist was not yet melted quiteInto the sky:The small round sun was dazzling white,The merry larks sang high:
The mist was not yet melted quite
Into the sky:
The small round sun was dazzling white,
The merry larks sang high:
The grassy northern slopes were laidIn sparkling dew,Out of the slow-retreating shadeTurning from sleep anew:
The grassy northern slopes were laid
In sparkling dew,
Out of the slow-retreating shade
Turning from sleep anew:
Deep in the sunny vale a burnRan with the lane,O’erhung with ivy, moss and fernIt laughed in joyful strain:
Deep in the sunny vale a burn
Ran with the lane,
O’erhung with ivy, moss and fern
It laughed in joyful strain:
And primroses shot long and lushTheir cluster’d cream:Robin and wren and amorous thrushCarol’d above the stream:
And primroses shot long and lush
Their cluster’d cream:
Robin and wren and amorous thrush
Carol’d above the stream:
The stillness of the lenten airCall’d into soundThe motions of all life that wereIn field and farm around:
The stillness of the lenten air
Call’d into sound
The motions of all life that were
In field and farm around:
So fair it was, so sweet and bright,The jocund SpringAwoke in me the old delightOf man’s imagining,
So fair it was, so sweet and bright,
The jocund Spring
Awoke in me the old delight
Of man’s imagining,
Riding adown the country lanes:The larks sang high.—O heart! for all thy griefs and painsThou shalt be loth to die.
Riding adown the country lanes:
The larks sang high.—
O heart! for all thy griefs and pains
Thou shalt be loth to die.