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The Fold B E H O L D, The time is now! Bring back, bring back Thy flocks of fancies, wild of whim. O lead them from the mountain-track, Thy frolic thoughts untold. O bring them in--the fields grow dim-- And let me be the fold. Behold, The time is now! Call in, O call Thy pasturing kisses gone astray For scattered sweets; gather them all To shelter from the cold. Throng them together, close and gay, And let me be the fold! Alice Meynell's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1233 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |