Читать книгу Oxford Poetry 1917-1921 - Various Authors - Страница 22
ОглавлениеDUCKLINGTON
Down there at Ducklington
The ducks are never old;
The geese are always goslings,
The catkins always gold.
The orchards blossom ever
Like foam heaped on a cup,
Down there at Ducklington
Where never a duck grows up!
Down there at Ducklington
The years linger yet
At April, with its little leaves
And ash-buds of jet.
And I could be a child again
And drink, as from a cup,
Youth, down at Ducklington,
Where never a duck grows up!
Down there at Ducklington,
With its ducklings ever young,
With its year ever at April,
And the songs of June unsung—
The potion of eternal youth
Is brewed there in a cup—
Down there at Ducklington
Where never a duck grows up!
