XXVIII. To a Cricket
Voice of summer, keenl and shrill,1
Chirping round my winter fire,
Of thy song I never tire,
Weary 2 others as they will,
For thy song with summer's filled
Filled with sunshine, filled with June;
Firelight 3 echo of that noon,
Heard in fields when all is stilled
In the golden light of May,
Bringing scents of new-mown 5 hay,
Bees, and birds, and flowers away,
Prithee,s haunt? my fireside
Voice of summer, keen and shrill.
1 Both words here mean high and loud; the cricket's voice is
easily heard. 2 To weary, to become weary itired). Even though
others become tired. 3In summer the cricket sings in the sunlight;
in the winter it is often heard near the fireplace, by the fireside.
40r: has grown still, is silent. 5 W hen the grass is cut (or
mown; to mow), we call it hay; new-mown, just mown. 6 Or: I pray
(beg) thee. 7 Or : remain near.