Yes. I remember Adlestrop— |
The name, because one afternoon |
Of heat the express-train drew up there |
Unwontedly. It was late June. |
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. |
No one left and no one came |
On the bare platform. What I saw |
Was Adlestrop—only the name |
And willows, willow-herb, and grass, |
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, |
No whit less still and lonely fair |
Than the high cloudlets in the sky. |
And for that minute a blackbird sang |
Close by, and round him, mistier, |
Farther and farther, all the birds |
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. |
Sunday, 29 August 2010
'Adlestrop'
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Great blog!
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