Tuesday, April 13, 2010

A Cuckoo Song Comments

Rating: 2.7

Crowns are for kings to wear, sad crowns of gold
Over tired heads that ache, world--cares untold.
Not on thy happy brows, sweet bird of summer,
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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 26 March 2020

Out in the dark we weep, our Queen- bird wanting. Such is the fate of birds. Soon as the Spring comes Vagrant they flit and fly. a great poem. tony

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