 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
302
BY THE WEIR
Slow stirs the boat; beneath the cool
Clear water sways the ribboned weed;
The large-eyed fish across the pool
Poise, dart and poise, and give no heed.
The distant woods are dim with haze,
The merry swallows flicker near;
And o'er the flashing waterways
Murmurs and drips the lazy weir.
Clear water sways the ribboned weed;
The large-eyed fish across the pool
Poise, dart and poise, and give no heed.
The distant woods are dim with haze,
The merry swallows flicker near;
And o'er the flashing waterways
Murmurs and drips the lazy weir.
The reed beside me stirs and shakes
His tufted head, how fresh and strong!
And in my drowsy memory wakes
An old and half-forgotten song.
And all the books I mean to write,
And all the fame that I would win,
And all uneasy dreams take flight,
And leave my heart at peace within.
His tufted head, how fresh and strong!
And in my drowsy memory wakes
An old and half-forgotten song.
And all the books I mean to write,
And all the fame that I would win,
And all uneasy dreams take flight,
And leave my heart at peace within.
Ah me! but we forget to live!
We sell sweet days for wealth and pride;
And when we have no more to give,
The soul is still unsatisfied!
Well, I have laboured, I have planned;
For once my plans, my labours cease.
God lays to-day a loving hand
Upon my shoulder, saying “Peace!”
We sell sweet days for wealth and pride;
And when we have no more to give,
The soul is still unsatisfied!
303
For once my plans, my labours cease.
God lays to-day a loving hand
Upon my shoulder, saying “Peace!”
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |