large/7359/spc134_1408_librivox_64kb_mp3/spc134_hayloft_w_64kb_1
large/7359/spc134_1408_librivox_64kb_mp3/spc134_hayloft_w_64kb
English
7359
Those green and sweetly smelling crops They led in waggons home; And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam. Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty Nail, Mount Eagle and Mount High;— The mice that in these mountains dwell, No happier are than I! THESE GREEN SWEETLY SMELLING COUGH THEY LED IN WAGON'S HOME AND THEY PILED THEM HERE ON MOUNTAIN TOPS THE MOUNTAINEERS TO ROME HEARS MOUNT CLEAR MOUNT RUSTY NAIL MOUNT EAGLE MOUNT HIGH THE MICE THAT IN THE MOUNTAIN DWELL NO HAPPIER THAN I
 daisies Here is a cart run away in the road Lumping along with man and load; And here is a mill, and there is a river: Each a glimpse and gone for ever! [Pg 47] WINTER-TIME Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again. Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress. Close by the jolly fire I sit To warm my frozen bones a bit; Or with a reindeer-sled, explore The colder countries round the door. When to go out, my nurse doth wrap Me in my comforter and cap; The cold wind burns my face, and blows Its frosty pepper up my nose. Black are my steps on silver sod; Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; And tree and house, and hill and lake, Are frosted like a wedding-cake. [Pg 48] THE HAYLOFT Through all the pleasant meadow-side The grass grew shoulder-high, Till the shining scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry.  THE HAY LOFT BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON RED FOR LIVER ROCK STOT ORG BY WILLIE THROUGH ALL THE PLEASANT MEADOW SIDES THE GRASS GREW SHOULDER HIGH TILL THE SHINING SIDES WENT FAR AND WIDE AND CUT IT DOWN TO DRY
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