Now, all the world is green and bright <br /> Outside the latticed pane; <br />The fields are decked with gold and white, <br /> And Spring has come again. <br />But though the world be fair without, <br /> With flow'rs and waving trees, <br />'Tis pleasanter to be about <br /> Where Nell's a-shelling peas. <br /> <br />Her eyes are blue as cloudless skies, <br /> And dimples deck her cheeks; <br />Whilst soft lights loiter in her eyes <br /> Whene'er she smiles or speaks. <br />So all the sunlit morning-tide <br /> I dally at mine ease, <br />To loaf at slender Nelly's side <br /> When Nell's a-shelling peas. <br /> <br />This bard, who sits a-watching Nell, <br /> With fingers white and slim, <br />Owns up that, as she breaks each shell, <br /> She also "breaks up" him; <br />And could devoutly drop upon <br /> Submissive, bended knees <br />To worship Nell with apron on - <br /> A saint a-shelling peas. <br /> <br />The tucked-up muslin sleeves disclose <br /> Her round arms white and bare - <br />'Tis only "shelling peas" that shows <br /> Those dainty dimples there. <br />Old earth owns many sights to see <br /> That captivate and please; - <br />The most bewitching sight for me <br /> Is Nell a-shelling peas. <br /> <br /><br /><br />Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-shelling-peas/
