On burning ploughlands, faintly blue with wheat, A three-horse roller toils, the wandering dust A nimbus round it. Shadow-coloured hills Huddle beyond -- hump-shouldered, kingly-headed Or eel-shaped; sinister, tortured -- waiting still, Beneath the purposeful, secretive sky, The multitudinous years That soon or late will melt them. So I have felt them In all their static beauty only fit for tears, Like those that toil along the blood-red weald With their own death-dust round them for sole glory Under the falcon wings Of dawn, the red night's carrion-swoop, The intolerable emptiness of air. Long, long ago I thought on all these things: Long, long ago I loved them.
Three Songs of Regret
Song Cycle by Bernard James Naylor (1907 - 1986)
?. Dust  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Mary Gladys Meredith Webb (1881 - 1927), "Dust", appears in Poems and The Spring of Joy, first published 1928
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]Total word count: 106