David Lewis Paget Poems

I lay a-dream in Byron Bay
And felt a voice to sigh and say:
'Get up, get up,
There’s much to be done,
...

There are no answers to your questionings;
If eighty years have not revealed the truth,
Then how could I, this child of your imaginings
Begin to comprehend your loss of youth.
...

'Don’t grumble and growl and roar at me
Old man, when your temper’s turning,
I’ve long since tired of your vain disputes
In the halls of your lordship’s learning,
...

The train pulled away from the station,
The driver grinned up at the box,
The signalman glowered at the driver's face
As he slotted the lever across,
...

For years, the 'Muse of the Heavenly Gates'
Had stood in the shade of a country lane,
Quietly tending its residents there,
The old, the feeble, the stark insane.
...

I well remember Sir Gordon Fitch
As much for his wealth as his plain language,
A spade was a 'bloody shovel' to him,
In truth, he was an arrogant man.
...

What can I do, Harry the Wu,
A policeman will come
And ask questions of you,
He'll pull out his book
...

I'll not lie down, nor sit and wait
The black-draped barge to float on by,
Nor offer up my throat, like ears of corn
To wait the sickle sigh,
...

'I won't be back 'til very late, '
The note from her had read,
He poured himself another drink
And headed off to bed,
...

They met at the Station of Henley Scarp
Set deep in the countryside,
He told her he'd meet her in London Town
When the hue and the cry had died,
...