by Ivor Gurney
Beauty and bright fame go not together, I
Bought oranges to-day from Queen Deirdre.
Apollo hewed the beech, I stood and watched
A ghost of wonder weaving while one thatched;
A pattern of lithe movements all a wonder:
An axe one farmer dealt like Zeus his thunder,
But no harm came save splinters on the dog.
Rosalind milks brown Jerseys Brimscombe way,
With careless royal air born of the first breath
And stealthy air-stirrings of breaking day.
Young gods a many hew stubborn at their log,
Strong labours show the breed plain underneath,
And goddesses a many near
Last updated July 01, 2015