William Allingham

(19 March 1824 – 18 November 1889 / Donegal / Ireland)

These Little Songs - Poem by William Allingham

These little Songs,
Found here and there,
Floating in air
By forest and lea,
Or hill-side heather,
In houses and throngs,
Or down by the sea -
Have come together,
How, I can't tell:
But I know full well
No witty goose-wing
On an inkstand begot 'em;
Remember each place
And moment of grace,
In summer or spring,
Winter or autumn
By sun, moon, stars,
Or a coal in the bars,
In market or church,
Graveyard or dance,
When they came without search,
Were found as by chance.
A word, a line,
You may say are mine;
But the best in the songs,
Whatever it be,
To you, and to me,
And to no one belongs.


Comments about These Little Songs by William Allingham

  • Krishnakumar Chandrasekar Nair (10/2/2016 12:13:00 AM)


    They come to us in the winds that blow
    From the songs of angels drifting in the blue
    And we are merely streams that flow
    Catching those words as they fall in tune......
    (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Mizzy ........ (10/1/2016 2:33:00 PM)


    Very enjoyable read.....Thank you. (Report) Reply

  • Subhas Chandra Chakra (10/1/2016 11:17:00 AM)

    Beautiful poem
    Remember each place
    And moment of grace,
    In summer or spring,
    Winter or autumn
    By sun, moon, stars,
    Or a coal in the bars,
    In market or church,
    Graveyard or dance,
    Nice work.
    (Report) Reply

  • Madhabi Banerjee (10/1/2016 8:36:00 AM)


    beautiful! thanks for sharing to us. I like it (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (10/1/2016 5:54:00 AM)

    Songs
    Without search! ! Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • (10/1/2016 2:48:00 AM)


    The best in the songs,
    Whatever it be,
    To you and to me,
    And to no one belongs.
    A beautiful life song. Thanks for sharing it here.
    (Report) Reply

  • Rajnish Manga (10/1/2016 12:49:00 AM)

    These Little Songs
    Life becomes an enriching experience when we celebrate every mood, every place and every season offered to us by mother nature. Every bit of it is a divine music and a celestial song. Thanks. (Report) Reply

Read all 7 comments »



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: autumn, dance, winter, summer, remember, spring, together, moon, sea, sun, house, song, star



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



[Report Error]