Oxford Bells

Like shuttles fleet the clouds, and after
A drop of shade rolls over field and flock;
The wind comes breaking here and there with laughter:
The violet moves and copses rock.

When the wind drops you hear the skylarks sing;
From Oxford comes the throng and hum of bells
Breaking the . . . . air of spring.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.