1 min read
Слушать(AI)Shadows on the Down
When daffodils danced in Chuck Hatch, and white
Drew their own shadowy purple across the hills,
Darkening the valley where the small flint
The Saxon built stood roofless to the sun,
Believe me,
Memory, it was not a shadow!
No shadow of a cloud you saw that
Flowing across the smooth deep-breasted downs,
But something darker, sweeter,—the wild
Of Sussex, flowing like a river of
That tossed a hundred skylarks up. No shadow,
Believe me,
Memory, but the purple
Flowing by windmill and by wattled
On to the white chalk coast and sparkling sea.
Alfred Noyes
Alfred Noyes CBE (16 September 1880 – 25 June 1958) was an English poet, short-story writer and playwright.
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Resurrection
Once more I hear the everlasting sea Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast, Come unto Me, come unto Me, And I will give you rest We have destroyed the Temple and in three days He hath rebuilt it — all things are made new: And ...
Kilmeny A Song of the Trawlers
Dark, dark, lay the drifters, against the red west, As they shot their long meshes of steel overside; And the oily green waters were rocking to rest When Kilmeny went out, at the turn of the tide And nobody knew where that lassie wo...
Daddy Fell into the Pond
Everyone grumbled The sky was grey We had nothing to do and nothing to say We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
Lines For A Sun-Dial
With shadowy pen I write, Till time be done, Good news of some strange light, Some far off sun