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Poem by Roy Campbell Mass at Dawn I dropped my sail and dried my dripping seines Where the white quay is chequered by cool planes In whose great branches, always out of sight, The nightingales are singing day and night. Though all was grey beneath the moon’s grey beam, My boat in her new paint shone like a bride, And silver in my baskets shone the bream: My arms were tired and I was heavy-eyed, But when with food and drink, at morning-light, The children met me at the water-side, Never was wine so red or bread so white. Roy Campbell Roy Campbell's other poems: 1746 Views |
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