File:The minstrelsy of Isis; an anthology of poems relating to Oxford and all phases of Oxford life; (1908) (14763985035).jpg

Identifier: minstrelsyofisis00firtrich (find matches)
Title: The minstrelsy of Isis; an anthology of poems relating to Oxford and all phases of Oxford life;
Year: 1908 (1900s)
Authors: Firth, John Benjamin, 1868-
Subjects: Ballads, English
Publisher: London, Chapman and Hall, Limited
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
he moor-hen from the sedgy rill, And the dim lengthening shadows flit like swallows upthe hill. The heron passes homeward to the mere. The blue mist creeps among the shivering trees, Gold world by world the silent stars appear. And like a blossom blown before the breeze A white moon drifts across the shimmering sky. Mute arbitress of all thy sad, thy rapturous threnody. Ah! the brown bird has ceased: one exquisite trillAbout the sombre woodland seems to cling Dying in music, else the air is still, So still that one might hear the bats small wing Wander and wheel above the pines, or tell Each tiny dew-drop dripping from the bluebells brimming cell. And far away across the lengthening wold. Across the willowy flats and thickets brown, Magdalen's tall tower tipped with tremulous goldMarks the long High Street of the little town, And warns me to return: I must not wait Hark! tis the curfew booming from the bell in Christ Church gate. Oscar Wilde (Magdalen College). From Th Burden of Itys.212
Text Appearing After Image:
o /^ ^ « - 2 OXFORD FROM THE ISIS AND there the golden city lay-Safe in her leafy nest, And softly on her clustering towers The blush of dawn did rest. Onward for many and many a mile, Through fields that lay below, Old Isis with his glassy stream Came pleasantly and slow. The spring with blossoms rich and fair had fringed the river's edge. Pale Mayflowers and wild hyacinths And spears of tall green sedge. The ripple on the flowery marge A pleasant sound did yield,And pleasant was the wind that waved The long grass in the field. F. W. Faber. 213 MEADOWSWEET : ON THE BANKS OF THECHERWELL IN summer fields the meadowsweetSpreads its white bloom around the feet of those who pass in love or playThe golden hours of holiday: Where heart to answering heart can beatThere grows the simple meadowsweet. Deep-bosomed in some cool retreatThe long reed grasses nod and greetThe stream that murmurs as it goesSongs of forget-me-not and rose ;The filmy haze of noontide heatIs faint with scents of meadowsweet

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