 | Weeping-Cross and Other Rimes by A. H. Bullen |  |
25
BY AVON STREAM
The jonquils bloom round Samarcand.—
Maybe; but lulled by Avon stream,
By hawthorn-scented breezes fanned,
'Twere mere perversity to dream
Of Samarcand.
Maybe; but lulled by Avon stream,
By hawthorn-scented breezes fanned,
'Twere mere perversity to dream
Of Samarcand.
A very heaven the Javan isle!—
Fond fancy, whither wilt thou stray?
While bluest skies benignant smile
On Avon meads, why prate to-day
Of Javan isle?
Fond fancy, whither wilt thou stray?
While bluest skies benignant smile
On Avon meads, why prate to-day
Of Javan isle?
The bulbul 'plains by Omar's shrine.—
But still I hold, and ever must,
Lark's tirra-lirra more divine;
And Stratford Church guards dearer dust
Than Omar's shrine.
But still I hold, and ever must,
Lark's tirra-lirra more divine;
And Stratford Church guards dearer dust
Than Omar's shrine.
21st May, 1916.
| Weeping-Cross and Other Rimes by A. H. Bullen | |