Colomen (Mary Webb Poems)
The doves that coo in ColomenAre never heard by mortal men,But when a human creature passesUnderneath the churchyard grasses,In deep ...
The doves that coo in ColomenAre never heard by mortal men,But when a human creature passesUnderneath the churchyard grasses,In deep ...
This is a land of forests, and of meresStirless and deep, replenished with my tears.Here the pine harps, and many ...
Who'll walk the fields with us to town,In an old coat and a faded gown?We take our roots and country ...
Above our lane two rows of larches lean,And lissom, rosy pines with wild black hair--One slim, bright-fingered chestnut in between.In ...
'Their being is to be perceived.'- BERKELEYLet fall your golden showers, laburnum tree!Break the grey casket of your buds for ...
These are my treasures: just a word, a look,A chiming sentence from his favourite book,A large, blue, scented blossom that ...
Dawn glimmers white beyond the burning hillWhere sunbeams light a fire in every tree.The morning bird is singing clear and ...
The world has praised your leafy songs,And you, in singing them, have madeRich folk forget their gains and wrongsAnd poor ...
The swallows pass in restless companies.Against the pink-flowered may, one shining breastThrobs momentary music--then, possessedWith motion, sweeps on some new ...
A solemn land of long-fulfilled desiresIs this, and year by year the self-same firesBurn in the trees. The untarnished colours ...
Never any more shall the golden sunMake of your leaves, my dainty one,Ardent shields of silver-green,With cool blue sky set ...
Ah, hush! Tread softly through the rime,For there will be a blackbird singing, or a thrush.Like coloured beads the elm-buds ...
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