Category: Poetry
_Of gladde Thynges there be more,-- Ay, four: A Larke above ye olde Neste blithely singing, A Wilde Rose clinging In safety to ye Rock, a Shepherde bringing A Lamb, found, in his arms,--and Chrystemesse Bells a-ringing._
_Of gladde Thynges there be more,-- Ay, four: A Larke above ye olde Neste blithely singing, A Wilde Rose clinging In safety to ye Rock, a Shepherde bringing A Lamb, found, in hi...
2. Part 2Over the hilltop and down in the meadow-grass Heaven like dew on the waking earth lies: Part of it, dear, is the blue of these violets; Best of it all I find in your eyes.
3. Part 3Each morn his golden head he lifted straight, To catch the first sweet breath of coming day; Each evening closed his sleepy eyes, to wait Until the long, cool night had passed a...
4. Part 4O weary, heavy-laden one, whose eyes Have long been sightless to behold the truth,-- Perchance in darkness walking even now, And longing with an aching heart for light,-- The Ma...