Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape (1863) (14781522045)

Identifier: birketfosterspic00tayl (find matches)
Title: Birket Foster's pictures of English landscape
Year: 1863 (1860s)
Authors: Taylor, Tom, 1817-1880 Foster, Myles Birket, 1825-1899 Dalziel, George, 1815-1902 Dalziel, Edward, 1817-1905
Subjects: Landscapes
Publisher: London, New York, Routledge, Warne, and Routledge
Contributing Library: Getty Research Institute
Digitizing Sponsor: Getty Research Institute



Text Appearing Before Image:
ty is but earthly, And loosed from earth must die. Humbly grew the wheat-ears In their russet weed,Now ripe and dry in sheaves they lie, To help poor human need;For good from earth when severed, Most serves for food and seed. 9 X. BUILDING THE HAY-RICK. Happy, hot, hay-making time,Heart of the glad summers prime,When even labour seems in tune,For once, with joys of balmy June;When freely flows the farmers beer,And toil shakes hands with lusty cheer,While from crisp and clean-raked swarthOf the meadow to the garthThe heavy hay-piled wains roll in,Where with song and bantering din,Stamping feet press down the mow,Behind the tall elms windy row,Till all the air for miles awayBreathes of fresh and fragrant hay.With slack reins the sweating teamIn the ricks broadning shadow steam ;While unchecked hands before them spillThe new-mown hay in careless heap,And field-born cans the ale-cups fill,And those who toil for once may reapOf the abundance that has birthFrom Gods glad and generous earth.
Text Appearing After Image:
10 XI. THE COUNTRY INN. Good entertainment for man and horse, Says the Red Lion swung from the old oak-tree; A promise that whoso tests may endorse; For home-brewed ale, sheets clean, if coarse, And bacon and eggs in last resource, Have drawn better men than you or me, Where the Red Lion swings from the old oak-tree. Theres a brimming water-trough, cool and clear, Where the Eed Lion swings from the old oak-tree; And a crib of sweet hay standing near, That the resting driver, over his beer, May watch his team, with loosened gear, Enjoying themselves as much as he, Where the Red Lion swings from the old oak-tree. The time has been, eer railways began, When the Red Lion swung from a stout oak-tree, That whereso highway or byway ran, Such hostelries greeted the wayfaring man To a well-filled trencher and well-frothed can, And all were welcome as welcome could be Where the Red Lion swung from the stout oak-tree. But now we are ruled by the iron-ways, Where no Red Lion swings from its tree;