Page:A child's own book of verse, (Vol. 3) (IA childsownbookofv03skin).pdf/27



“Cusha! Cusha ! Cusha !’ calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Farre away I heard her song. “Cusha ! Cusha !” all along ; Where the reedy Lindis floweth, Floweth, floweth, From the meads where melick groweth Faintly came her milking song, — “Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!” calling, “For the dews will soon be falling; Leave your meadow grasses mellow, Mellow, mellow; Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Quit the stalks of parsley hollow, Hollow, hollow; Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, From the clovers lift your head ; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, Jetty, to the milking shed.” —Jean Ingelow.