A Poet's Harvest Home Being One Hundred Short Poems: By William Bell Scott ... With an Aftermath of Twenty Short Poems |
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A Poet's Harvest Home | ||
146
AGE.
‘Stepping westward,’ did she say,
At sunset on that long Scotch day?
‘Stepping westward,’ yes, alway,
With staff and scrip,
Wayfaring songs upon my lip,
Stepping, stepping, to the end.
At sunset on that long Scotch day?
‘Stepping westward,’ yes, alway,
With staff and scrip,
Wayfaring songs upon my lip,
Stepping, stepping, to the end.
As down the slanting path I wend,
Behold, a breadth of distant sea,
Between the hills on either hand,
Ships bearing from some unknown land
To other land unknown to me.
Behold, a breadth of distant sea,
Between the hills on either hand,
Ships bearing from some unknown land
To other land unknown to me.
‘Stepping westward,’ all that be,
Body and soul, by land or sea,
Follow still the westering sun;
That must end which has begun.
Body and soul, by land or sea,
Follow still the westering sun;
That must end which has begun.
A Poet's Harvest Home | ||