Four Poems

England

Little Gidding and the Alconburys;
Earthworks, fosses;
Church spires bronzed

By the evening sun:
This is a dream of England
Dreaming of itself.

Caedmon and Alfred, Cynewulf, Cyneheard
Lie silent in their barrows
Under their English sun.


Thoor Ballylee

No stare’s nest by the window -
I pressed my forehead against the stones,
As if their rough cool hardness
Could sink into my bones.
‘Another emblem there’:
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