I love the stony pasture <br />That no one else will have. <br />The old gray rocks so friendly seem, <br />So durable and brave. <br /> <br />In tranquil contemplation <br />It watches through the year, <br />Seeing the frosty stars arise, <br />The slender moons appear. <br /> <br />Its music is the rain-wind, <br />Its choristers the birds, <br />And there are secrets in its heart <br />Too wonderful for words. <br /> <br />It keeps the bright-eyed creatures <br />That play about its walls, <br />Though long ago its milking herds <br />Were banished from their stalls. <br /> <br />Only the children come there, <br />For buttercups in May, <br />Or nuts in autumn, where it lies <br />Dreaming the hours away. <br /> <br />Long since its strength was given <br />To making good increase, <br />And now its soul is turned again <br />To beauty and to peace. <br /> <br />There in the early springtime <br />The violets are blue, <br />And adder-tongues in coats of gold <br />Are garmented anew. <br /> <br />There bayberry and aster <br />Are crowded on its floors, <br />When marching summer halts to praise <br />The Lord of Out-of-doors. <br /> <br />And there October passes <br />In gorgeous livery, - <br />In purple ash, and crimson oak, <br />And golden tulip tree. <br /> <br />And when the winds of winter <br />Their bugle blasts begin, <br />The snowy hosts of heaven arrive <br />To pitch their tents therein.<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-deserted-pasture/
