O what harper could worthily harp it, Mine Edward! this wide-stretching wold ( Look out wold ) with its wonderful carpet Of emerald, purple, and gold!
Look well at it — also look sharp, it Is getting so cold. The purple is heather ( erica ); The yellow, gorse — call'd sometimes “whin.”
Cruel boys on its prickles might spike a Green beetle as if on a pin. You may roll in it, if you would like a Few holes in your skin.
You would n't? Then think of how kind you Should be to the insects who crave Your compassion — and then, look behind you At you barley-ears! Do n't they look brave
As they undulate — ( undulate, mind you, From unda, a wave ). The noise of those sheep-bells, how faint it Sounds here — ( on account of our height )!
And this hillock itself — who could paint it, With its changes of shadow and light? Is it not — ( never, Eddy, say “ai n't it” ) - A marvellous sight?
Then yon desolate eerie morasses, The haunts of the snipe and the hern - ( I shall question the two upper classes On aquatiles, when we return ) -
Why, I see on them absolute masses Of filix or fern. How it interests e'en a beginner ( Or tiro ) like dear little Ned!
Is he listening? As I am a sinner He's asleep — he is wagging his head. Wake up! I'll go home to my dinner, And you to your bed.
The boundless ineffable prairie; The splendour of mountain and lake With their hues that seem ever to vary; The mighty pine-forests which shake
In the wind, and in which the unwary May tread on a snake; And this wold with its heathery garment - Are themes undeniably great.
But — although there is not any harm i n't - It's perhaps little good to dilate On their charms to a dull little varmint Of seven or eight.
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