Time hangs suspended 'mid the perf… With limpid wings, o’er which the… Gleams like a tear, within the ten… Desirous eyes of love-lorn Destin… The earth is dumb, the scents of m…

Oh! come to London, young lad, Lots is to be seen! But he said: ‘I cannot come, maid… Till the cuckoos all be dumb, maid… On the hills of green.’

Along the hills the olives grow. And almonds bloom in early Spring… And many are the streams that flow… And countless are the birds that s… The air is cool with distant snow,

I MIND me of the hawthorn trees, With cuckoos flying near ; The hawthorn blossoms smelt so swe… The cuckoo called so clear! The hill was steep enough to climb…

O Raggedstone, you darksome hiU, Your shadow fell for sure Upon my own dear love and I, Across the purple moor. For we were such a happy pair,

Bredon is a lonesome hill, It hasn’t any brothers ; It stands within the Severn vale, Apart from all the others. The Cotswold Hills go hand in han…

Sweet are the silent places of the… Green heart of woods through which… Long sloping meadows sown with sil… Old gardens thick with scents of d… Pale dome of morning, ere the firs…

Oh! my valley of shade and dreams! Golden lights 'mid the distant blu… Sun that pauses to kiss the dew, Dew that trembles beneath its beam… Fain were I but a bird above,

The Malvern Hills be green some d… And some days purple-blue, There never was the like of them The whole of England through. From Hanley straight into the Wel…

In the meadows by the Avon, Underneath the slope of Bredon, There we often used to wander, My girl and I. All around the thrushes singing.

I weave my verses of smiles and te… Gathered and shed for you, I bind them up in the hopes of yea… Dear, will you read them through? I write my ballads of joy and pain…

If you would hear the thrushes sin… Then go to Georgetown in the spri… And wander slowly at your ease Along the avenues of trees. The sunshine and the shadows meet

The Moon looked in at the window, And smiled as I wrote to you, She lay like a frail white maiden, In shadowy folds of blue. Her bosom was bare and tender,

Malvern The world 's a beautiful world to-… A flame of gold and a dusk of gray… Where Autumn leaves toss their ga… O’er still deep lanes, where the t…

Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.