The Shepherd; and Other Poems of Peace and War
- ISBN-10
- 123036367X
- ISBN-13
- 9781230363677
- Pages
- 20
- Language
- English
- Published
- 2013-09
- Publisher
- Theclassics.Us
- Author
- Edmund Blunden
Description
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1922 edition. Excerpt: ... Water Sport 1 Come, all who hear our song' say Yalding bells, And dim ' We bid you come ' ring Hunton's four; Then, ' Come, come, come, ' the dingling treble tells, And still the echo drones a moment more. The sunny music travelling out like bees Was pleasant on the water's wide blue glade, Where Cheveney mill peers through the poplar trees--Sweet fell the summons there, but none obeyed. Loosed from the harness of the grumbling mill Hungry for play, peal churchbells as they will, The mill boy and his boon companions urge Their crazy boat out from the bubbling verge And up the broad flood, gabbling as they row, They venture proud as Vikings long ago; Where the red butterfly with sleights and whims Mocks the stretched hand, and where the swallow skims To gild his wing with floss of twinkling dew. And in the hawthorn whence the young thrush flew The chuff vole feeds, a very alderman, Though, scared below, that old leviathan The pike shoots into surer solitude. Pleasure is there in that old boat and rude, And will be there, as long as the green planks Hold each to each: as long as Sunday pranks Startle the redhead moorhen into shelter Or on the sleeping hatch the black weeds swelter. Glorious will be the long adventurous day, And sweet will vespers be, to hush their play, When the slow ripples from the home course run For seeming miles on miles to the dying Sun, The dying Sun that even through the black Sharp-jutting mill will burn with intense light; Joy will fall deeper with the dews of night And the new moon marred with no wraith or wrack Shine like an angel to the mill boy's sight. The Scythe Struck by Lightning A Thick hot haze had choked the valley grounds Long since, the dogday sun had gone his rounds Like a dull coal half lit with.
