LANES down which they drive the kine; Fields where they do plow; Orchards -- flagons of old wine -- Be remembered now. Think of gardens full of bees; Gusts that fleeting pass; Think of tall laburnum trees, Blazing in the grass. Noise and rout are folded up; Only Sleep is here: Sleep that comes with quiet cup; Drink, oh, dearest dear! Safe as dew, as clear of fret, Then let Dark draw nigh; For a candle God has set Somewhere in the sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STEEL OR GOLD?; THE QUESTION by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON OLD THINGS by THOMAS T. BLEWETT AUTUMN LEAVES by PEARL B. BLOSS THE HILLS WE LOVE by GRACE LOWE BROADHEAD A DEDICATION TO GAVIN HAMILTON by ROBERT BURNS AND THE COCK CREW by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |