Poem by Alfred Tennyson

The Owl

When cats run home and light is come,
And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,
And the whirring sail goes round,
And the whirring sail goes round;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,
And rarely smells the new-mown hay,
And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch
Twice or thrice his roundelay,
Twice or thrice his roundelay;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits. 

1. In the Valley of Cauteretz
2. The Cock
3. The Lord of Burleigh
4. O True and Tried
5. Epitaph on General Gordon

Edward Thomas The Owl ("DOWNHILL I came, hungry, and yet not starved")

Print

1947 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version