As I was a-walking One morning in spring I heard a pretty ploughboy, And so sweetly he did sing; And as he was a-singing O These words I heard him say, "There's no life like the ploughboy's In the sweet month of May.' There's the lark in the morning She will rise up from her nest, And she'll mount the white air With the dew all on her breast. And with the pretty ploughboy O She'll whistle and she'll sing And at night she'll return To her nest back again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TREKKING THE HILLS OF NORTHERN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON THE NETHERLANDS by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 28. WATERLOO by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) VERDANT GREEN AND THE CROW by ROBERT BRUCE HYMNOS AHYMNOS, OR UMNOS AUMNOS by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH THE WIND AT NIGHT by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK TEMPERANCE, OR THE CHEAP PHYSICIAN by RICHARD CRASHAW |