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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567529" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Reading Ballads</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We lay upon a flowery hill<br>Close by the railway lines,<br>Apollo dusted gold on us<br>Between the windy pines.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We watched the London trains go by<br>Full of the weary folk,<br>Who travelled back that Sunday night<br>To six more days of smoke.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They stared out at the whirling fields,<br>And when they saw us two,<br>They turned their heads to follow us<br>Till we were snatched from view.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The year was at the summer’s spring<br>When grass grows fresh and long,<br>And flowers are more in bud than bloom,<br>And cuckoos slacken song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sainfoin and the purple vetch<br>Nodding above our lair<br>Sighed on the western breeze, whose might<br>Could barely stir our hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hawkweed on our ballad book<br>Sprinkled its pollen fine,<br>And now and then a beetle dropped<br>And wandered through a line.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Sir Patrick Spens” we loitered down,<br>“Tam Lin” and “Young Beichan,”<br>And almost felt the sunshine weep<br>For the “Lass of Lochroyan.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stanza on stanza endlessly<br>From her lips or from mine<br>Benumbed our dreaming souls, like drops<br>Of a Circean wine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I watched her while she read to me,<br>As children watch their nurse,<br>Until my being throbbed to hear<br>This solitary verse:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“O western wind, when wilt thou blow<br>That the small rain down can rain?<br>Christ! That my love were in my arms<br>And I in my bed again!”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This little verse cut thorugh the twists<br>Of the dream-twinèd spell,<br>And “Robin Hood” sank back again<br>With the “Wife of Usher’s Well.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And an illimitable desire<br>Quickened our souls with pain.<br>We knew that we were still at one<br>With the people in the train.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Arthur+Graeme+West">Arthur Graeme West</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567529" data-title="On Reading Ballads de Arthur Graeme West" data-description="We lay upon a flowery hill
Close by the railway lines,
Apollo dusted gold on us
Between the windy pines.

We watched the London trains go by
Full of the weary folk,
Who travelled back that Sunday night
To six more days of smoke.

They stared out a..."></div>
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