The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1877-04-20
PoetiC al.
For The Kgis d mteligencer.
The Rocks of Deer Creek.

| when hours OF leisure OVertakc
The busy cares which labors make,
As sinks beneath the horizon
In Spring, the occidental sun,
And gathers from the ebbing day
Each gilded varicolored ray,
And slowly, calmly, creeps the night
| Upon the overriding light.
IT'S dusk Now pleasant are the strolls,
Through yerdant wales where Deer Creek rolls
And ever meath silver spray,
1t rumbles ON its rocky way.
On either side, the messy green
Sweetly contrasts the water-scene;
| The angler on the rocky ledge
His rod holds DER the waters edge;
The hooks below the buoy await
The nibbling of the tempting bait.
The buoy dips, the rod is sprung,
A trout upon the bank is flung.
| Around, a dense and towering wood,
| Which tells of centuries withstood,
| While Eastward from the vale ascends
| A steep incline which beauty lends;
| IT'S dotted DER with rocks and pines
| And verdant shrubs and twining vines,
| Unto the summit of the steep,
1 Where messy rocks in beauty heap
But grander far the counterpart,
Where Westward so abruptly start
The massive, rugged rocks that rise
In rustic grandeur to the skies.
But tits not all rocky waste
| For nature in each crag has placed
| The dainty fern, or blowing flower,
| Or clinging, creeping, ivy bower.
| Far up, the highest rocky peak
| O'erhangs the valley and the creek,
And chiseled in its bold relefs,
| Two chairs,-of yore the squaw's and chief S.
| Denominated "King's and Queen's,"
Which overlook the pastoral scenes
They undulating fields o'erlook,
The grassy mead and ripping brook,
The tleecy flocks in all The dells,
Who sportiye Jingle merry bells;
Whilst far and wide, in every mead
On richest grass fat oxen feed.
The swains who till the fertile brows,
Resign till morn their polished plows;
The tired horse now loose from chains
Strays gently through the winding lanes;
The milliinaid, at the falling dews,
The browsing kline with singing sOothes;
While laZily they homeward stray,
Lufed by the mellow dairy lay.
The farmers now returned from MILL
With we'll ground grists their larders fill;
And now, as daily labors cease,
The marksman with his fowling piece
Returns, and proves unerring aim,
With well-flled pouch of varied game.
No longer now the woods conceal;
The aXman with his hewing steel
His last tree feled the cottage lord
Is welcomed at his humble beard
The matron serves the evening snack;
Conentment serves where dainties Lack
Then round the ample open fire,
The rosy children press the sire,
For stories wild of "Robber Gap"
Some nestle in their fathers lap,
While romping Tom will make, of course,
His fathers foot riding horse
The skylark circles low in flight
And singing sinks to rest for night,
The swallow skins the sedgy field,
Where schools # gnats his repasts Weld,
The bullbat, boiling in his flight,
Is welcoming the coming night;
And accents sweet, and loud and shrill
Are heard from many whippoorwill;
The quail to laurel hedge firms home
And whistles for his mate to come;
The robin plumes his wing and breast,
While swinging boughs rock him to rest
From out the old log school house door,
The children of all sizes pour,
Some laugh, some run, some turn hand spring,
Ten boys the masters palfrey bring,
Six hold the reins for fear he'll bolt,
But "Lazy Bones" no more q colt,
Has not been guilty of such thing,
For twenty years this pleasant Spring.
The master fairly out of sight,
The boys crowd round to see the fight,
For Tom in school had Bills coat rent
tom vows it was an accident)
But Bill will not be pacified,
And swears he'll take it out Toms hide
The gentle girls, at easy pace,
Wild flowers gather for the vase,
Or blow the withered dandeion
And count its fuzz to know the time
With violets, too, whose strength they match,
They tell who first beau will catch
Inc forge, where dally sleugeS swing,
And make the ponderous anvils ring,
Is closed. The steed with ironed hoof,
Is sheltered by the stable roof;
The plow's new share and welded point,
With well wrought bolts are keyed in joint,
And wait to polish in the sod,
Which they shall break while horses plod
No longer now the woods resound
With winding horn and baying hound;
The huntsman gayly riding back,
Is followed by the seeming pack
His horse the first in steeple- chase,
His hounds the foremost in the race
The Hero sits the steed that's prancing,
With Reynard's bush in forelock dancing,
The stately mansion by the. grove,
Receive the rangers from their rove,
And stories of their ventures all
Tell at the banquet in the hall
Oh! who would venture to amend,
Such pleasant scenes as here attend,
Where lord and peasant jointly own
The land where hospitality's shown.
Who've viewed them, justly say indeed,
IT'S peasanter to look than read