Category: Novels
Between the barren pasture and the wood There is a patch of poultry-stricken grass, Where, in old time, Ryemeadows' Farmhouse stood, And human fate brought tragic things to pass. A spring comes bubbling up there, cold as glass, It bubbles down, crusting the leaves with lime, B...
Between the barren pasture and the wood There is a patch of poultry-stricken grass, Where, in old time, Ryemeadows' Farmhouse stood, And human fate brought tragic things to pass...
2. Part 2No word profaned the peace of that glad giving, But the warm dimness of the night stood still, Drawing all beauty to the point of living, There in the beech-tree's shadow on the...
3. Part 3"That Christmas Eve, when all the bells were ringing, So that we picked out seven churches' bells, Ringing the night, and people carol-singing? It hummed and died away and rose...
4. Part 4Back, by another way, he turned. The sun Fired the yew-tops in the Roman woods. Lights in the valley twinkled one by one, The starlings whirled in dropping multitudes. Dusk fing...
5. Part 5Slowly he forced his body's failing life Down to the water; there he stooped and filled; And as his back turned Lion drew his knife, And hid it close, while all his being thrill...