All of the sights of the hill and the plain

Fly as thick as driving rain;

And ever again, in the wink of an eye,

Painted stations whistle by.

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,

All by himself and gathering brambles;

25

25

Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;

And there is the green for stringing the daisies!

Here is a cart run away in the road

Lumping along with man and load;

And here is a mill, and there is a river:

Each a glimpse and gone for ever!

XXXVIII

WINTER-TIME

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,

Late

A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;

Blinks but an hour or two; and then,

 Prev. P 53/379 next