The cow low'd sadly o'er the distant gate, In the mid field, and round our garden rail: But nought her restless sorrow could abate, Nor patting hands, nor clink of milking-pail; For she had lost the love she least could spare. Her little suckling calf, her life of life, In some far shambles waited for the knife, And spent his sweet breath on the murderous air. One single yearning sound, repeated still, Moan'd from the croft, and wander'd round the hill: The heedless train ran brawling down the line; On went the horseman, and the market cart: But little Rose, who loved the sheep and kine, Ran home to tell of Cushie's broken heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHERS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS BOB CRUIKSHANKS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON THE HAPPY LOVER by PHILIP AYRES TIME'S HAND IS KIND by MARGARET E. BRUNER OLD AND NEW; THE CENTURY ASSOCIATION, 1847-1897 by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER ON HIS MISTRESS CROSSING THE SEA by THOMAS CAREW |