Thomalin.
Where is every piping lad
That the fields are not yclad
With their milk-white sheep?
Tell me: is it holiday,
Or if in the month of May
Use they long to sleep?
Piers.
Thomalin, 'tis not too late,
For the turtle and her mate
Sitten yet in nest:
And the thrustle hath not been
Gath'ring worms yet on the green,
But attends her rest.
Not a bird hath taught her young,
Nor her morning's lesson sung
In the shady grove:
But the nightingale in dark
Singing woke the mounting lark:
She records her love.
Not the sun hath with his beams
Gilded yet our crystal streams;
Rising from the sea,
Mists do crown the mountains' tops,
And each pretty myrtle drops:
'Tis but newly day.
The Shepherd's Pipe.
Spring Morning - I
William Browne
(1)
Poem topics: dark, green, sea, sleep, sun, bird, holiday, white, crown, sheep, young, long, milk, morning, pretty, lesson, Valentine's Day, crystal, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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