Come, let us find a cottage, love,
That's green for half a mile around;
To laugh at every grumbling bee,
Whose sweetest blossom's not yet found.
Where many a bird shall sing for you,
And in your garden build its nest:
They'll sing for you as though their eggs
Were lying in your breast,
My love—
Were lying warm in your soft breast.
'Tis strange how men find time to hate,
When life is all too short for love;
But we, away from our own kind,
A different life can live and prove.
And early on a summer's morn,
As I go walking out with you,
We'll help the sun with our warm breath
To clear away the dew,
My love,
To clear away the morning dew.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
Im begining to come to the conclution that that Mr.Davies was a dreamer and an idealist. This poem shows just how a dreamer thinks. They know that the world wont change and that what they want isnt something that can exist. But that doesnt stop one from dreaming about something that could be or more or less what you would like it to be.
-
Johnathan
Adding your comment:
