Classic Poem

(EIGHTEENTH CENTURY SONG)

AT Darley Dale the hedges
Are vocal all with birds
That sound their loving pledges
In little silvery words;
At Darley Dale the herds
Are sleek and fat and fine;
I stand and gaze and watch them graze;
Oh, would these herds were mine!

At Darley Dale the flowers,
They look such happy things;
Above their heads the showers
Pass by on rainbow wings;
At Darley Dale there clings
Rich verdure to the vine;
Rose, violet and mignonette, —
Oh, would these blooms were mine!

At Darley Dale there hovers
About no cloud of cares,
And lasses and their lovers
Go up and down in pairs;
At Darley Dale the airs
Of each maid seem divine;
And there is one I dote upon, —
Oh, would this maid were mine!