William White

(United Kingdom)

To An Old Book - Poem by William White

Enriched by gleaming gold design
And colour fresh yet old,
He treasures ours
The beauty
It wonders we behold,
Who scribed thee then in flowing hand
How long ago then wait
We see a cloistered abbey where
In silence monk would fib.
We feast our eyes, and marvel now
But priceless now to hold,
Thy hath given beauty yet
His name is left untold.


Comments about To An Old Book by William White

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: beauty, silence



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003



[Report Error]