WINCHESTER DOWNS

In Winchester on the white downs

This is not mist at all,

But the thin silk of fairy gowns

Which is not woven in the towns

And all behind a wall.

In Winchester, be taught of me,

The fairies seize your wrist.

Their gowns are caught in every tree;

--But if you have no eyes to see,

Then sure, it's only mist.

Sorrow of War: Poems · 第 77 / 89 题