William Henry Davies

(3 July 1871 – 26 September 1940 / Monmouthshire / Wales)

The Kingfisher - Poem by William Henry Davies

It was the Rainbow gave thee birth,
And left thee all her lovely hues;
And, as her mother’s name was Tears,
So runs it in my blood to choose
For haunts the lonely pools, and keep
In company with trees that weep.
Go you and, with such glorious hues,
Live with proud peacocks in green parks;
On lawns as smooth as shining glass,
Let every feather show its marks;
Get thee on boughs and clap thy wings
Before the windows of proud kings.
Nay, lovely Bird, thou art not vain;
Thou hast no proud, ambitious mind;
I also love a quiet place
That’s green, away from all mankind;
A lonely pool, and let a tree
Sigh with her bosom over me.


Comments about The Kingfisher by William Henry Davies

  • (3/21/2006 2:47:00 PM)


    This shows admiration at the colour of the Kingfisher, although proudly drest is not proud. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: lonely, rainbow, green, birth, tree, mother, running



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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