Poems with rhymes of lawn

What out-of-pocket charges must be borne,
Expenses met; nor as a draughty ghost
That's seen, some mornings, running down a lawn.

The star that led the dawn,
Blithe Flora from her couch upstarts,
For May is on the lawn.

As was her wont, at early dawn,
She issued to the dewy lawn;

Good watch in every shadowy lawn;
And from clean, easy-breathing sleep
The birds should waken me at dawn.

But slumber hold me tightly till I waken in the dawn,
And hear the thrushes singing in the lilacs round the lawn.

Her plaid skirt close about her drawn,
She floundered down the wintry lawn;

The sober eve, or hail the cheerful dawn,
I'll miss thee sporting o'er the dewy lawn,

The chaplain vows he cannot fawn,
Though it would raise him to the lawn:

Rose o'er that grassy lawn,
Beside the silver-footed deer
There grazed a spotted fawn.

Thence thro' the garden I was drawn--
A realm of pleasance, many a mound,
And many a shadow-chequer'd lawn

LIKE the sway of the silver birch in the breeze of dawn
Is her dainty way;
Like the gray of a twilight sky or a starlit lawn

Green grass-plot, fresh lawn,
Though pasture lands harden
And drought fissures yawn.

And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn,
That of its charms divests the dewy lawn,

I watched the still and dewy lawn,
The pear-tree boughs hung white above you;
I listened to you till the dawn,

Chloe, fresher than the breeze of dawn,
Fairer than the larches in their young spring glory,
Brighter than the glow-worms on the dewy lawn,

When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-

The outside of her garments were of lawn,
The lining purple silk, with gilt stars drawn;

Are sleeping on the lawn;
And scarcely have the birds begun
To hail the summer morn;

For a song, a blackbird's song, at dawn.
He should have no more, till on my lawn

And on the deepening shadows of the lawn
Its golden lines are drawn.