A song in a cornfield Where corn begins to fall, Where reapers are reaping, Reaping one, reaping all. Sing pretty Lettice,
Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.
I did not chide him, though I kne… That he was false to me. Chide the exhaling of the dew, The ebbing of the sea, The fading of a rosy hue,—
Consider The lilies of the field whose bloo… We are as they; Like them we fade away, As doth a leaf.
Three sang of love together: one w… Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in… Flushed to the yellow hair and fin… And one there sang who soft and sm… Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at…
The earth was green, the sky was b… I saw and heard one sunny morn A skylark hang betweent he two, A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord,
I cannot tell you how it was, But this I know: it came to pass Upon a bright and sunny day When May was young; ah, pleasant… As yet the poppies were not born
The dear old woman in the lane Is sick and sore with pains and ac… We’ll go to her this afternoon, And take her tea and eggs and cake… We’ll stop to make the kettle boil…
I will tell you when they met: In the limpid days of Spring; Elder boughs were budding yet, Oaken boughs looked wintry still, But primrose and veined violet
Oh, pleasant eventide! Clouds on the western side Grow grey and greyer, hiding the w… The bees and birds, their happy la… Seek their close nests and bide.
‘I dreamt I caught a little owl And the bird was blue —’ ‘But you may hunt for ever And not find such a one.’ ‘I dreamt I set a sunflower,
Three plum buns To eat here at the stile In the clover meadow, For we have walked a mile. One for you, and one for me,
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me
There’s snow on the fields, And cold in the cottage, While I sit in the chimney nook Supping hot pottage. My clothes are soft and warm,
Twist me a crown of wind—flowers; That I may fly away To hear the singers at their song, And players at their play. Put on your crown of wind—flowers: