A book of Bristol sonnets | ||
117
CARTER'S LANE,
PORTBURY.
I know a lane where Summer waits for Spring,And Spring with beauty holds the Summer back!
There shepherds have no need of almanac,
Flowers tell the seasons, hours the Thrushes sing!
Close at our side, a brooklet gossiping
Bids us for ever higher up the track;
Of sweet May music never is there lack,
Their silent peals the heavy blue-bells ring!
O'er-hanging elm-trees lend perpetual shade;
Not very far the welcome dew will stray;
Their broidery on the banks the ferns have made;
And on the dimpled stones the sun-whirls play!
Cheered by such sight, such soft accompaniment,
Old age forgets how long the lane's ascent!
A book of Bristol sonnets | ||