Classic Poem

Slowly , slowly darken primrose and pimpernel,
Heather of the rock, ashake on delicious air,
Slanted seas of spreading grass (green glow and tidal swell),
Under wind and pausing light, how variably fair!

Larks from heaven descending hush; not a cloud-shadow
Where so late the romping lambs chased it in a ring;
High along a little wood quick rain-sparkles go;
Blorenge walls a fairy world: the sole substantial thing.

April in Govilon, filled with a bright heart-break,
Evenfall on dying wing, swanlike and supreme!
Soon, unheard, the Hyades run up the hills to take
Seven lamps, and trail the seven all night in Isca stream.