Classic Poem

Come , and see!
Thou, who never think'st to find
Pleasure for the dainty eye
In rural scenery;
Thought how false! and eye how blind!
Come, and see!—The hills, the woods,
The valleys, and the rolling floods,
“Come, and see!” are all a saying,
All be-word their pray'r, with praying
“Come, and see!
Prithee, come, and see!”

Come, and see!
How the summer-valley lies,
Painted all in colours sheen,
Red, yellow, blue, and green,
With a thousand other dyes;
Where the little merry bee
Danceth to the minstrelsie
Of the meadow-bells a-ringing,
And be-words their song, with singing
“Come, and see!
Prithee, come, and see!”

Come, and see!
How the sleepy willows look
With their heads laid i' the stream,
Where silver minnows gleam,
Rowing up and down the brook;
Where the dank reed, river-born,
Blows its melancholy horn
To the whimperin' waves a-creeping,
And be-words their woe, with weeping
“Come, and see!
Prithee, come, and see!”

Come, and see!
How the sylvan feathers wave
On the cresty mountain-brow,
Now bending lowly, now
Rearing high their plumage brave;
Where the saucy rufflin' breeze
Pushes through the fretful trees
All in tumult wild a-flying,
And be-words their sigh, with sighing
“Come, and see!
Prithee, come, and see!”

Come, and see!
Such is rural beauty; such
Pleasure, to be found for you;
If then, this tale be true,
Couldst thou ever look too much?
Come, and see!—The hills, the woods,
The valleys, and the rolling floods,
“Come, and see!” are all a-saying,
And be-word their pray'r, with praying
“Come, and see!
Prithee, come, and see!”