Joanna Baillie Poems
Comments about Joanna Baillie
A Winter Day
The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames,
Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air,
Stretches his neck and claps his heavy wings,
Gives three hoarse crows, and glad his talk is done;
Low, chuckling, turns himself upon the roost,
Then nestles down again amongst his mates.
The lab'ring hind, who on his bed of straw,
Beneath his home-made coverings, coarse, but warm,
Lock'd in the kindly arms of her who spun them,
Dreams of the gain that next year's crop should bring;
Or at some fair disposing of his wool,
Or by some lucky and unlook'd-for ...
ASK you, 'What charms first chain'd my heart,
'And held me from the world apart,
'Made young ambition's turmoil cease,
'And blest me in the haunts of peace?'
'Twas not th' unfolding of the rose,
That in the cheeks' fresh vermeil glows;
Not health, whose fragrant lip exhales
The breath it stole from morning gales;
Not the smooth front, as spotless fair,