Classic and Contemporary Poetry
VALE, by WILFRED ROWLAND CHILDE First Line: In beckley from the high green woods Last Line: As thou hast ever been to me! Subject(s): Oxford University | ||||||||
IN Beckley from the high green woods The eye looks down on sheeted floods, Blue visionary solitudes, Where many a thick-leaved hillock broods On lonely Otmoor starkly grand, And shining leagues of silent land, Which the horizon's endless line Does in an azure mist confine. From Beckley the hid paths go down To many a blessed fairy town, To many a hidden wandering way, And the hushed flood of virgin Ray, To Merton and to Ambrosden, To Charlton, tower of fortunate men, Lost in the gentian-coloured fen, Whereof I am a citizen, But shall not take youth there again. (Rememberest thou, my soul, that noon Watched by the still blue face of June, The sacred water stealing slow, The flowery dykes -- how sweet they flow! -- The starry lilies, golden and white, The blossom of iris burning bright, The dreaming distance infinite?) From Beckley slowly wandering Those roads meet many a pleasant thing, -- Wood Eaton veiled in towering trees, Noke nodding lap't in drowsy leas, Cloaked Waterperry, nurse of peace, And Elsfield, whence the traveller sees, Faint, royal-crowned, majestical, A distant vision, dear and small, Apparent in the leafy vale, Proud as a king's town in a tale, The city of our blessedness, The towers that are her gloriousness, The spires that are her splendid joy -- So seems she to the gazing boy. Ah, now my joy is not the same -- In Charlton under sunset-flame, When all the dim marsh-lands aspire Toward the orange western fire, And in the vaned tower the bell Rings, and the hour is very well, And the infinite plain is changed all To a vast blue blossom magical, And a few stars shine, and the spring-dews fall. -- In Beckley, when the flowers are out, And in rich woods the cuckoos shout, And scattered all around appear The dancing babes of the jubilant year, Green spurges, hyacinths, orchises, A glory in the shade of the trees. -- Ah, now I cannot laugh and sing, And drink the sweet earth triumphing: For now I am a man and find The world is not made after my mind, As it is made after the mind of a boy -- Good-bye, my lovely sister joy! Good-bye, good-bye, exalted hills, Good-bye to that rare peace which fills Young hearts rejoicing in lonely air. O hills, I leave you something fair, I leave you youth: may other boys Come here with laughters, hopes and joys, Fill the bare lands with happy noise, Take here long rambling careless walks, And tire their comrades with vast talks, And drain the blue and dream the world, And see great infinite hopes unfurled, Drink beer and tea in lonely inns, Dismiss the seven deadly sins, Alter the universe at will. (Geraniums on the window-sill, In those wise taverns, O good-bye!) May other folk be glad as I For ever in those aery lands, While great Saint Mary glorious stands, And doth victoriously complete The splendour of the only street. Vale to the blessed hills, then, And Vale to the azure fen: Vale is my only truth. Good-bye, my lovely sister youth, As kind to others mayst thou be, As thou hast ever been to me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRIST CHURCH MEADOWS, OXFORD by DONALD HALL OXFORD, THIRTY YEARS AFTER by JOHN UPDIKE THE SCHOLAR GIPSY by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE SPIRES OF OXFORD by WINIFRED MARY LETTS THE TALENTED MAN by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED SONNET: ON HAVING DINED AT TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD by JOHN CODRINGTON BAMPFYLDE THE BALLAD OF MY FRIEND by J. D. BEAZLEY LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A SONG OF THE LITTLE CITY by WILFRED ROWLAND CHILDE DREAM - COTSWOLD by WILFRED ROWLAND CHILDE THE ABIDING BURG (DEDICATION: TO THE SMALL TOWNS OF CHRISTENDOM) by WILFRED ROWLAND CHILDE |
|