Silver Birch
A silver birch dances at my window.
The faint clouds dimly seen
On the sloped azure are easy to be scattered
When full day's wind sweeps clean.
Call to walk comes as of true nature,
Easy should the body move.
And poetry comes after eight miles' seeking,
Mere right out of mere love.
The faint clouds dimly seen
On the sloped azure are easy to be scattered
When full day's wind sweeps clean.
Call to walk comes as of true nature,
Easy should the body move.
And poetry comes after eight miles' seeking,
Mere right out of mere love.
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