I Have Found My Special Arbour Poem by james watkin
I Have Found My Special Arbour
I have found my special arbour
In claspings, tight-wound;
Deep hugs, odour-filled.
My nook, my combe, and my vale!
Where all of a perturbed rumbling
Is suppressed; bestilled.
With what of sweet, little sounding
Voice-heaves, joy-breasted;
Voice-hangs, thereabout.
Sweet finch's, sweet thrush's, and sweet wren's!
To dull pining with a pleasanter
Languishing; rest-bout.
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4/29/2024 6:37:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
