William Bell Scott
Epilogue - Poem by William Bell Scott
HERE then I draw my linked rein;
These months have filled the farmer's wain,
Filled too my small portfolio,
I need not wait the threatening snow:
Already on the steep Goatfell
Forebodingly we mark it well,
And leafless is the garden Bower,
Shed is every gentle flower.
The swallows have gone south, we too
Will go, and to these verses new
I add some old ones, one or two.
'Tis said what's new is seldom true,
And what is true can scarce be new.
I hope indeed it is not so,
But year by year fresh flowers shall blow,
For poets still to bring to you.
Comments about Epilogue by William Bell Scott
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You