The distant hills call to me
Their rolling waves seduce my heart
Oh, how I want to graze in their lush valleys
Oh, how I want to run down their green slopes
Alas, I cannot,
D**n the electric fence!
D**n the electric fence!
Thank You.
By Gary Larsen, "Cow Poetry"


Just lumbering across the fields
Or nibbling at their grassy yeilds
Or standing calmly in a pasture
Fearing no earthly disaster
Maybe it is they who know the truth
That man forgot back in his youth
That time is one of man's inventions
To gauge our deeds and best intentions
Oh to stand beneath a tree
And marvel at a bumblebee
That pollinate the many flowers
That turn to fruit through summer showers
But unlike them I have a past
And days that never seem to last
And so it is I'm thinking now
Of what it is to be a cow
Author Unknown


The friendly cow all red and white,
I've with all my heart;
She gives me cream with all her might,
To eat with apple-tart,
She wanders lowing here and there,
And yet she cannot stray,
All in the pleasant open air,
The pleasant light if day,
And blows by all the winds that pass
And wet with all the showers,
She walks among the meadow grass
And eats the meadow flowers.
by Robert Louis Stevenson


Something inspires the only cow of late
To make no more of a wall than an open gate
And think no more of wall-builders than fools
Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools
A cider syrup, Having tasted fruit,
She scorns a pasture withering to the root
She runs from tree to tree where lie and sweeten
The windfalls spiked with stubble and worm-eaten
She leaves them bitten when she  has to  fly
She bellows on a knoll against the sky
Her udder shrivels and the milk goes dry
By   Robert Frost

In a China Shop
By George Sidney Hellman
A DRESDEN shepherdess was one day 
Milking a small Delft cow, 
When a Sevres Marquis came along 
I saw him smile and bow: 
"O lovely shepherdess, hear my song,"         5
I think I heard him say, 
"For thou hast captured my porcelain heart, 
And by my sword I swear thou art 
A star in the Milky Way."


Robert Graves (18951985).  Fairies and Fusiliers.  1918.
AN ANCIENT saga tells us how 
In the beginning the First Cow 
(For nothing living yet had birth 
But Elemental Cow on earth) 
Began to lick cold stones and mud:         5
Under her warm tongue flesh and blood 
Blossomed, a miracle to believe: 
And so was Adam born, and Eve. 
Here now is chaos once again, 
Primeval mud, cold stones and rain.         10
Here flesh decays and blood drips red, 
And the Cow's dead, the old Cow's dead.

The Cow
By Bernard O'Dowd
THIS is a rune I ravelled in the still, 
  Arrogant stare of an Australian cow 
  'These prankt intruders of the hornless brow, 
Puffed up with strange illusions of their skill 
To fence, to milk, to fatten and to kill,         5
  Once worshipped me with temple, rite and vow, 
  Crowned me with stars, and bade rapt millions bow 
Before what abject guess they called my will! 
'To-day, this flunkey of my midden, Man, 
  Throws child-oblations in my milking byre,         10
   Stifles in slums to spare me lordly fields, 
  Flatters with spotless consorts my desire, 
   And for a pail of cream his birth-right yields, 
As once in Egypt, Hellas, Ind, Iran!' 

Orrick Johns. 1887
THERE'S nothing very beautiful and nothing very gay  
About the rush of faces in the town by day;  
But a light tan cow in a pale green mead,  
That is very beautiful, beautiful indeed...  
And the soft March wind and the low March mist          5
Are better than kisses in a dark street kissed...  
The fragrance of the forest when it wakes at dawn,  
The fragrance of a trim green village lawn,  
The hearing of the murmur of the rain at play  
These things are beautiful, beautiful as day!   10
And I shan't stand waiting for love or scorn  
When the feast is laid for a day new-born...  
Oh, better let the little things I loved when little  
Return when the heart finds the great things brittle;  
And better is a temple made of bark and thong   15
Than a tall stone temple that may stand too long.


T.S. Eliot (1888 -1965).  Prufrock and Other Observations.  1917.  
Strode across the hills and broke them, 
Rode across the hills and broke them 
The barren New England hills 
Riding to hounds         5
Over the cow-pasture. 
Miss Nancy Ellicott smoked 
And danced all the modern dances; 
And her aunts were not quite sure how they felt about it, 
But they knew that it was modern.         10
Upon the glazen shelves kept watch 
Matthew and Waldo, guardians of the faith, 
The army of unalterable law. 

Robert Graves (1895-1985).  Fairies and Fusiliers.  1918.
THE CHILD alone a poet is: 
Spring and Fairyland are his. 
Truth and Reason show but dim, 
And all's poetry with him. 
Rhyme and music flow in plenty         5
For the lad of one-and-twenty, 
But Spring for him is no more now 
Than daisies to a munching cow; 
Just a cheery pleasant season, 
Daisy buds to live at ease on.         10
He's forgotten how he smiled 
And shrieked at snowdrops when a child, 
Or wept one evening secretly 
For April's glorious misery. 
Wisdom made him old and wary         15
Banishing the Lords of Faery. 
Wisdom made a breach and battered 
Babylon to bits: she scattered 
To the hedges and ditches 
All our nursery gnomes and witches.         20
Lob and Puck, poor frantic elves, 
Drag their treasures from the shelves. 
Jack the Giant-killer's gone, 
Mother Goose and Oberon, 
Bluebeard and King Solomon.         25
Robin, and Red Riding Hood 
Take together to the wood, 
And Sir Galahad lies hid 
In a cave with Captain Kidd. 
None of all the magic hosts,         30
None remain but a few ghosts 
Of timorous heart, to linger on 
Weeping for lost Babylon.


Robert Burns (17591796).  Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics.  190914.
HER daddie forbad, her minnie forbad 
  Forbidden she wadna be: 
She wadna trow't the browst she brew'd, 
  Wad taste sae bitterlie. 
Chorus.The lang lad they ca'Jumpin John         5
  Beguil'd the bonie lassie, 
The lang lad they ca'Jumpin John 
  Beguil'd the bonie lassie. 
A cow and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf, 
  And thretty gude shillin's and three;         10
A vera gude tocher, a cotter-man's dochter, 
  The lass wi' the bonie black e'e. 
     The lang lad, &c.