A Saxon Song
Tools with the comely names, Mattock and scythe and spade, Couth and bitter as flames, Clean, and bowed in the blade,--A man and his tools make a man and his trade. Breadth of the English shires, Hummock and kame and mead, Tang of the reeking byres, Land of the English breed,--A man and his land make a man and his creed. Leisurely flocks and herds, Cool-eyed cattle that come Mildly to wonted words, Swine that in orchards roam,--A man and his beasts make a man and his home. Children sturdy and flaxen Shouting in brotherly strife, Like the land they are Saxon, Sons of a man and his wife,--For a man and his loves make a man and his life.
Victoria Sackville West
Other author posts
Sailing Ships
Lying on Downs above the wrinkling bayI with the kestrels shared the cleanly day, The candid day; wind-shaven, brindled turf; Tall cliffs; and long sea-line of marbled From Cornish Lizard to the Kentish
Mariana In The North
All her youth is gone, her beautiful youth outworn, Daughter of tarn and tor, the moors that were once her No longer know her step on the upland tracks forlorn Where she was wont to roam All her hounds are dead, her beautiful hounds...
The Greater Cats
The greater cats with golden Stare out between the bars Deserts are there, and the different skies, And night with different stars
Trio
So well she knew them both yet as she Into the room, and heard their Of tragic meshes knotted with her name,