When Hours Pass, Drowsy Of Wing Poem by james watkin
When Hours Pass, Drowsy Of Wing
When hours pass, drowsy of wing
As with a flame, drooping
Quietude, for a retreat
Contrives its arbour-seat.
Moon-leaved for night-shades! Unplaced
For world's nervous shock faced.
Even as bats throw dread around!
And spooks, owl-eyed, abound!
Here one grabs, wizened, weakly
Balms begot of Mem'ry.
Dew-soft, as though ferny-dipped.
Like are these airs, star-dipped.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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9/20/2024 6:59:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
