Two Songs
By John Davidson
I—London
Athwart the sky a lowly sigh
From west to east the sweet wind carried ;
The sun stood still on Primrose Hill;
His light in all the city tarried :
The clouds on viewless columns bloomed
Like smouldering lilies unconsumed.
" Oh, sweetheart, see, how shadowy,
Of some occult magician's rearing,
Or swung in space of Heaven's grace,
Dissolving, dimly reappearing,
Afloat upon ethereal tides
St. Paul above the city rides ! "
A rumour broke through the thin smoke
Enwreathing Abbey, Tower, and Palace,
The parks, the Squares, the thoroughfares,
The million-peopled lanes and alleys,
An ever-muttering prisoned storm,
The heart of London beating warm.
The Yellow Book—Vol. I. o Foxes
By John Davidson
I—London
Athwart the sky a lowly sigh
From west to east the sweet wind carried ;
The sun stood still on Primrose Hill;
His light in all the city tarried :
The clouds on viewless columns bloomed
Like smouldering lilies unconsumed.
" Oh, sweetheart, see, how shadowy,
Of some occult magician's rearing,
Or swung in space of Heaven's grace,
Dissolving, dimly reappearing,
Afloat upon ethereal tides
St. Paul above the city rides ! "
A rumour broke through the thin smoke
Enwreathing Abbey, Tower, and Palace,
The parks, the Squares, the thoroughfares,
The million-peopled lanes and alleys,
An ever-muttering prisoned storm,
The heart of London beating warm.
The Yellow Book—Vol. I. o Foxes