The Pleasure Of The Thought Poem by Ernestine Northover

A cat lays stretched out, contented on a wall,
The Farmer's Boy comes whistling down the lane,
One cockerel now proclaims his morning call,
And day begins to make swift way again.

Then others enter now upon this scene,
As to their daily duties they attend,
Some goats are tethered on the Village Green,
And the Miller, slowly starts, his flour to blend.

Three dairymaids with tasks to do, now run,
To cows, who await, their creamy milk to yield,
And as the dawn now welcomes in the sun,
It beams, from all the heavens, this land to gild.

What a pleasant picture here for us is wrought,
Leaving one with all the pleasure of the thought.

© Ernestine Northover