Works

TO T. STURGE MOORE


The years come on, the years go by,
And in my Northern valley I,
Withdrawn from life, watch life go by.
But I have formed within my heart...

O, Cartmel bells ring soft to-night,
And Cartmel bells ring clear,
But I lie far away to-night,
Listening with my dear;

Listening in a frosty land
Where all the bells are still...