by Herbert Trench (1865-1923)She comes not when Noon is on the roses--
Too bright is Day.
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
From work and play.
But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
Roll in from Sea,
By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight
She comes to me.
poem Herbert Trench
2 commentaires:
What a Coincidence! I have thought about starting a new Swedish blog about old classical poetry and poets. Most of the poets are forgotten a long time ago.
I have the books, but I don´t seem to be getting time to do this. It´s a pity.
A case of "Great minds think alike", maybe?. :)
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