William Henry Davies or W. H. Davies (3 July 1871 – 26 September 1940) was a Welsh poet and writer. Davies spent a significant part of his life as a tramp or hobo, in the United Kingdom and United States, but became one of the most popular poets of his time. The principal themes in his work are observations about life's hardships, the ways in which ...
The man could see a century into the future. What a pitch perfect description of the Obama economic plan: Poor men need not go up so much as rich men should come down. Shared misery. Amen.
'Sheep' by W H Davies, submitted by George Sullivan 12 Nov 13 WHEN I was once in Baltimore, A man came up to me and cried, “Come, I have eighteen hundred sheep, And we will sail on Tuesday’s tide. “If you will sail with me, young man, I’ll pay you fifty shillings down; These eighteen hundred sheep I take From Baltimore to Glasgow town.” He paid me fifty shillings down, I sailed with eighteen hundred sheep; We soon had cleared the harbour’s mouth, We soon were in the salt sea deep. The first night we were out at sea Those sheep were quiet in their mind; The second night they cried with fear — They smelt no pastures in the wind, They sniffed, poor things, for their green fields, They cried so loud I could not sleep: For fifty thousand shillings down I would not sail again with sheep.
In 1939, the year of my birth, a nearby Primary School in Beckenham, Kent performed a choral play called Rainbows by Janet Percy. The Prologue was RAPTURES by W. H. Davies. Is it possible, please, foe me to see the words? Thank you.
Still hard to comprehend a Newport boy could have travelled and experienced all as he did. Then to write it so simply and enigmatically, ok so beautifully. Thanks Davies, from Evans
Leisure by W. H. Davies...one of my favorite poems, , ! Such a great write..! ! I love reading it again and again..! ! Davies is a great poet to be remembered for all time to come
Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
Can the poem 'Sheep' by W H Davies be published on this site?