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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON QUARLEY DOWN, by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY First Line: On quarley down, on quarley down Last Line: Whose ditch is their memorial! | |||
ON Quarley Down, on Quarley Down The trees grow straight, the trees grow tall, And there the Romans set their camp, And girdled it with moat and wall. On Quarley Down, on Quarley Down A man may see three counties lie, But never an eagle standard flap, Nor a Roman foot pass by. On Quarley Down, on Quarley Down A man may hear the wind and trees, But never a word of the Roman tongue, Nor a snatch of their martial melodies. On Quarley Down, on Quarley Down An ancient bed I lay upon, For I lay sleeping in the moat Dug nigh two thousand years agone. On Quarley Down, on Quarley Down The trees grow straight, the trees grow tall, And God send peace to those dead men Whose ditch is their memorial! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DISCLAIMER by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A GRACE by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A GREAT MYSTERY by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A PENITENT TO HIS NEIGHBOURS by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A PEOPLED SOLITUDE by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A ROOT OF DOUBT by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY A ROSE by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY ACTUM EST! by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY ALLEGRA AND TRISTITIA by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY AS RIVERS OF WATER IN A DRY PLACE by ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY |
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