THE DOWNS.

Oh! the downs high to the cool sky;

And the feel of the sun-warmed moss;

And each cardoon, like a full moon,

Fairy-spun of the thistle floss;

And the beech grove, and a wood dove,

And the trail where the shepherds pass;

And the lark's song, and the wind-song,

And the scent of the parching grass!

A Cluster of Grapes A Book of Twentieth Century Poetry · 第 31 / 119 题