William Bell Scott
Comments about William Bell Scott
A Last Walk, In Illness
Let's close the book, and underneath the blue
Stepping again where innocent daisies grow,
Sweet daisies the child's playthings long ago;
Feel the spring wind as then it briskly blew,
And hear as then we heard the shrill curlew;
Make friends with the slow cow upon the lea,
And seated on this height behold the sea.
Dear ancient sights, for me again so new.