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Poem by William Cosmo Monkhouse A Song of the Seasons Sing a song of Spring-time, The world is going round, Blown by the south wind: Listen to its sound. "Gurgle" goes the mill-wheel, "Cluck" clucks the hen; And it's O for a pretty girl To kiss in the glen. Sing a song of Summer, The world is nearly still, The mill-pond has gone to sleep, And so has the mill. Shall we go a-sailing, Or shall we take a ride, Or dream the afternoon away Here, side by side? Sing a song of Autumn, The world is going back; They glean in the corn-field, And stamp on the stack. Our boy, Charlie, Tall, strong, and light: He shoots all the day And dances all the night. Sing a song of Winter, The world stops dead; Under snowy coverlid Flowers lie abed. There's hunting for the young ones And wine for the old, And a sexton in the churchyard Digging in the cold. William Cosmo Monkhouse William Cosmo Monkhouse's other poems: ![]() 1197 Views |
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