BROTHER Bulleys, let us sing From the dawn till evening! - For we know not that we go not When to-day's pale pinions fold Where they be that sang of old. When I flew to Blackmoor Vale, Whence the green-gowned faeries hail, Roosting near them I could hear them Speak of queenly Nature's ways, Means, and moods, - well known to fays. All we creatures, nigh and far (Said they there), the Mother's are; Yet she never shows endeavour To protect from warrings wild Bird or beast she calls her child. Busy in her handsome house Known as Space, she falls a-drowse; Yet, in seeming, works on dreaming, While beneath her groping hands Fiends make havoc in her bands. How her hussif'ry succeeds She unknows or she unheeds, All things making for Death's taking! - So the green-gowned faeries say Living over Blackmoor way. Come then, brethren, let us sing, From the dawn till evening! - For we know not that we go not When the day's pale pinions fold Where those be that sang of old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON by RICHARD LOVELACE FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT by JOHN HENRY NEWMAN THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 98. HE AND I by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1852 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE AGE OF WISDOM by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY VERSES WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF AN OLD VISITATION COPY OF ARMS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |