England
Shoulders of upland brown laid dark to the sunset's bosom, Living amber of wheat, and copper of new-ploughed loam,
Downs where the white sheep wander, little gardens in blossom, Roads that wind through the twilight up to the lights of home.
Lanes that are white with hawthorn, dykes where the sedges shiver, Hollows where caged winds slumber, moorlands where winds wake free,
Sowing and reaping and gleaning, spring and torrent and river, Are they not more, by worlds, than the whole of the world can be?
Is there a corner of land, a furze-fringed rag of a by-way, Coign of your foam-white cliffs or swirl of your grass-green waves,
Leaf of your peaceful copse, or dust of your strenuous highway, But in our hearts is sacred, dear as our cradles, our graves?
Is not each bough in your orchards, each cloud in the skies above you, Is not each byre or homestead, furrow or farm or fold,
Dear as the last dear drops of the blood in the hearts that love you, Filling those hearts till the love is more than the heart can hold?
This piece, an extract from the much longer "The Rainbow And The Rose" is taken from R.
V.
Lucas's collection "The Open Road" {Methuen 1931] page 54-5
Edith Nesbit
Другие работы автора
The Island
Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town, Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face Or, wrapt ...
St Valentines Day
The South is a dream of flowers With a jewel for sky and sea, Rose-crowns for the dancing hours, Gold fruits upon every tree; But cold from the North The wind blows forth That blows my love to me The stars in the South are gold Like...
Questions
What do the roses do, mother, Now that the summer's done They lie in the bed that is hung with And dream about the sun
The Charm
KE crimson lamps the tulips swing, The lily flowers their incense bring, The daisies votive garlands fling Before the altar of the Spring And you and I in this green May,
