Blue Wings, bu George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)
Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves
Came to me a gentle sound,
Whis'pring of a secret found
In the clear sunshine 'mid the goldern sheaves:
Said it was sleeping for me in the moon,
Called it gladness, called it joy,
Drew me on 'Come hither, boy.'
To where the blue wings rested on the corn.
I thought the gentle sound had whispered true
Thought the little heaven mine,
Leaned to clutch the thing divine,
And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!
3 comments:
this is so very lovely!
Beautiful...I love those posts:)
muah darling and happy Thursday:)
Love your selections of poetry. Perhaps it is time to add to your creative pursuits by beginning to pen your own words of inspiration. SB
Post a Comment