Nutting

Turning pools into mirrors,
And silence to glee,
Reflecting the image
Of rapture in thee.

Then come forth, my charmer!
Thy presence can charm
Into summer the winter,
To sunshine the storm.
Though without thee I feel
What a desert would be,
I should think, in thy presence,
'Twas Eden with me.

RIGHT rosy gleamed the autumn morn,
Right golden shone the autumn sun,
The mowers swept the bleachy corn,
While long their early shades did run;
The leaves were burnt to many hues,
The hazel nuts were ripe and brown;
My Mary's kindness could but choose
To pluck them, when I bore them down.

The shells, her auburn hair did show
Faint semblance to, yet beautiful;
She smiled to hear me tell her so,
Till I forgot the nuts to pull.
I looked up to an ash and thorn
For nuts — my wits were all away;
She laughed so rich that autumn morn,
All, all but Love was wide away.

And soon the day was on its wane,
Ere Joy had thought one hour away;
Who could but wish Time back again,
When Love was so inclined to stay!
She started at each little sound
The branches made; yet would her eye
Regret the gloom encroaching round,
That told her night was in the sky.

I helped her through the hedge-row gap,
And thought the very thorns unkind,
As not to part; — while in her lap
. She sought the ripest bunch to find.

Then on a hill, beneath a tree,
We shelled the nuts; — as lovers' spells,
She often threw the nuts at me,
And blushed to see me hoard the shells —
Love-tokens for an -after day,
Passports, a blushing kiss to claim.
Soon went that Autumn-eve away,
And never more its fellow came.