A song of Enchantment I sang me there,
In a green green wood, by waters fair,
Just as the words came up to me
I sang it under the wild wood tree.
Widdershins turned I, singing it low,
Watching the wild birds come and go,
No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen,
Under the thick thatched branches green.
Twilight came: silence came;
The planet of Evening's silver flame;
By darkening paths I wandered through
Thickets trembling with drops of drew.
But the music is lost and the words are gone,
Of the song I sang as I sat alone
Ages and ages have fallen on me
On the wood and the pool and the elder tree.
Val says Lovely isn't it ?
We are looking at the life of John Masefield and reading some of his poems in the Fifi Monday Poetry group. I keep getting muddled and saying we are doing Walter de la Mare, so as I have done the work for Masefield , which is heaven, thought you could benefit from my looking yearningly also at Walter de la Mare
Widdershins means taking a direction opposite to the usual [ contrary to the apparent course of the sun ]
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