To W. H. Davies
I WOULD my sight were formed to stare
In ecstasy on cows and trees,
To drink them in, and taste with care
Their sweet particularities;
And I would count them; but I go
Lost in a landscape of the mind,
A country where the lights are low
And where the ways are hard to find.
In ecstasy on cows and trees,
To drink them in, and taste with care
Their sweet particularities;
And I would count them; but I go
Lost in a landscape of the mind,
A country where the lights are low
And where the ways are hard to find.
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