search. All day while I scythed my territory out of nettles, laid claim to my cantref, Here I read a poem about the sadly diminishing numbers of curlews. Her beak is the ellipse of a world much smaller than that far section of the sea’s circumference. O, Curlew, cry no more in the air, Or only to the waters in the West; Because your crying brings to my mind Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair That w. William Butler Yeats Poems Quotes Books Biography Comments Images Darkness settles on roofs and walls, ... More About This Poem The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls By … find poems find poets poem-a-day library (texts, books & more) materials for teachers ... the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Poems. I cried when the moon was murmuring to the birds, "Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will, I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words, For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind." The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Curlew. The Curlew Song. The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town, And the tide rises, the tide falls. The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown . Like thee, congenial bird! #curlews #poetry Cymraeg: Dy alwad glywir hanner dydd Fel Ffliwt hyfydais uwch y rhos Fel chwiban bugail a fo gudd Dy alwad glywir hanner nos; Nes clywir, pan ddwys a dy swn Cyfarth dy anweledig gwn. Find and share the perfect poems. my steps explore The bleak lone sea-beach, or the rocky dale,-- And shun the orange bower, the myrtle vale, Whose gay luxuriance suits my soul no more. A curve enough to calculate the field’s circle and its heart of eggs in the cold grass. https://www.lrb.co.uk › the-paper › v39 › n08 › paul-batchelor › the-curlew A poem by Gillian Clarke. The Curlew's Cry (Yr alwad y Gylfinir) by Blurgerocity. The viewless blast flies moaning past, Away to the forest trees ; Where giant pines and leafless vines Bend ’neath the wandering breeze ! The Bush Stone Curlew Poem by Francis Duggan.Weerloo weerloo a bird's voice in the night Weerloo weerloo again then all is quiet A bird the bushman hear but seldom see SOOTH'D by the murmurs on the sea-beat shore, His dun-grey plumage floating to the gale, The Curlew blends his melancholy wail With those hoarse sounds the rushing waters pour. She dips her bill in the rim of the sea. I write under my pen name Falcon Blackwood. The honey-pale moon lay low on the sleepy hill, And I fell asleep upon lonely Echtge of streams. [Editor: This poem by Henry Kendall was published in Poems and Songs (1862).].
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