Burning Off (Dorothea Mackeller Poems)
They're burning off at the Rampadells, The tawny flames uprise, With greedy licking around the trees; The fierce breath sears ...
They're burning off at the Rampadells, The tawny flames uprise, With greedy licking around the trees; The fierce breath sears ...
This life that we call our own Is neither strong nor free; A flame in the wind of death, It ...
WHEN the tall bamboos are clicking to the restless little breeze, And bats begin their jerky skimming flight, And the ...
My Country The love of field and coppice Of green and shaded lanes, Of ordered woods and gardens Is running ...
From my window I can see, Where the sandhills dip, One far glimpse of open sea. Just a slender slip ...
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