Cicely Fox Smith

(1 February 1882 – 8 April 1954 / Lymm, Cheshire)

Cicely Fox Smith Poems

1. A Castle In Spain 8/30/2010
2. A Cavalry Soldier 8/30/2010
3. A Channel Rhyme 8/30/2010
4. A Complaint 8/30/2010
5. A Ballad Of Old And New 8/28/2010
6. A Ballad Of The Time 8/28/2010
7. A Declaration Of War 8/30/2010
8. A Lancashire Sunset 8/30/2010
9. A Lift By The Way 8/30/2010
10. A Message 8/30/2010
11. A Mighty Hunter Before The Lord 8/30/2010
12. A Norseman 8/30/2010
13. A North Country Hound (Old Style) 8/30/2010
14. A Parting 8/30/2010
15. A Place Of Dreams 8/30/2010
16. A Port Forsaken 8/30/2010
17. A Question 8/30/2010
18. A Saint Of Cornwall 8/30/2010
19. A Sea Burthen 8/30/2010
20. A Farewell (1904) 8/30/2010
21. A Garden In The North 8/30/2010
22. A Job O' Work 8/30/2010
23. A Lament 8/30/2010
24. A Song Of The Day 8/30/2010
25. A Song Of The Open 8/30/2010
26. A Stave At Parting 8/30/2010
27. A Wool Fleet Chorus 8/30/2010
28. A Worshipper 8/30/2010
29. A Yarn Of Dan's 8/30/2010
30. Admiral Dugout 8/30/2010
31. Afoot 8/30/2010
32. After Dark 8/30/2010
33. After Preston Fight 8/30/2010
34. After The Storm 8/30/2010
35. Afterglow 8/30/2010
36. Age (Millwall Dock) 8/30/2010
37. A Seaside Church 8/30/2010
38. All Sorts 8/30/2010
39. An Angel Unawares 8/30/2010
40. An Ocean Tramp 8/30/2010
Best Poem of Cicely Fox Smith

The Oldest Thing In London

A thousand landmarks perish,
A hundred streets grow strange;
With all the dreams they cherish
They go the ways of change;
But, whatso towers may tumble,
And whatso bridges fall,
And whatso statues crumble
Of folk both great and small,
The Oldest Thing in London he changes not at all.

The shoutings of the foeman,
The groanings of the slain,
The galley of the Roman,
The longship of the Dane,
The warring of the nations,
The judgment of the Lord
On heedless generations
In plague and fire and sword,
The Oldest Thing in London has known them and...

Read the full of The Oldest Thing In London

A Castle In Spain

On a hill-top brown it stands:
One side, open tablelands
Stretch to meet the sky:
On the other, winding dales,
Prospects fair of hills and vales
All unfolded lie.

And within are colonnades;
Cool, dim aisles whose groin'd roof shades

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