In the meadow by the mill
I'd make my ballad,
Tunes to that would whistle shrill
And beat the blackbird's ringing bill.-
But surely the innocent spring has died,
The sultry noon has hushed the bird,
The jingling word, the tune untried,
All in that meadow must have died.-
For that, the fuller speech of song
Has charmed me,
And lulled my lonely hours along;
Though beauty's truth that leads to-day
My longing trials
Shone then like dewdrops in my way,
When ' Nature painted all things gay.'
First Rhymes
Edmund Blunden
(1)
Poem topics: ballad, beauty, lonely, nature, song, spring, truth, bird, whistle, innocent, speech, Valentine's Day, meadow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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