Explore "The Morning Walk" by Thomas James Wise on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
To the beech grove with so sweet an air / It beckon'd me. / O, Earth! that never the cruel plough-share / Had furrow'd thee! / In their dark shelter the flowerets grew, / Bright to the eye, / And smil'd by my foot on the cloudlets blue, / Which deck'd the sky.
To the wood through a field I took my way; / There I could see / On the field an uppil'd stone-heap lay, / 'Twixt hillocks three; / So anciently grayly white it stood, / An oblong ring: / Here doubtless was held in the old time good / A royal Ting.