A little flock of clouds go down to rest In some blue corner off the moon's highway, With shepherd-winds that shook them in the West To borrowed shapes of earth, in bright array, Perhaps to weave a rainbow's gay festoons Around the lonesome isle which Brooke has made A little England full of lovely noons, Or dot it with his country's mountain shade. Ah, little wanderers, when you reach that isle Tell him, with dripping dew, they have not failed, What he loved most; for late I roamed a while Thro' English fields and down her rivers sailed; And they remember him with beauty caught From old desires of Oriental Spring Heard in his heart with singing overwrought; And still on Purley Common gooseboys sing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN APIA BAY by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 74. ST. LUKE THE PAINTER (OLD & NEW ART) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THIS IS NOT I by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS THE SONG OF THE LIGHT-HEARTED by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE CLANCY'S SONG by JAMES BRENDAN CONNOLLY THE WAITING-MAID (SUSPECTED TO LOVE HER) by ABRAHAM COWLEY |