Cicely Fox Smith Poems

Oh, the flute it tells of parting, and all things sweet and sad,
And the gay guitar of frolic, and song and laughter glad:
...

'Beware! Beware!'
The shrilling bugles blare.
'Lest you waken unaware
The lion form his lair,
...

Not here the grace of the sonnet's flow,
The blithe ballade and the smooth rondeau,
The minstrel's tale and the wooer's sighs,
...

They laid him down, - the soldier slain in war, -
Fresh from the midnight flame, the midnight roar,
To sleep his last proud sleep of victory
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Prison'd king! What worlds of woe
In thy weary, gold-brown eyes -
Thoughts of roaming long ago
Under Afric's sultry skies,
...

There's an office back in London, and the dusty sunlight falls
With its swarms of dancing motes across the floor,
...

There's an office back in London, and the dusty sunlight falls
With its swarms of dancing motes across the floor,
...

Have you heard the seagull calling, the seagull out at sea?
And sorry is its voice, though its wings are wide and free!
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'Five boats there was,' says Bristol Tim, 'in the steamship
Albacore
-
She used to sail on the Far East run 'tween Hull an'
...

The puma is a puss-cat, and a thumping big one too,
But mostly when you meet one it's a deal more scared than you;
...