0It is mild, the snow is evaporating and it is obvious that Spring is waiting in the wings. My darling can sit on the verandah for hours — although I'm sure he'd prefer it a bit dryer so he could go out without getting wet paws!
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When reading books I find at Gutenberg I can't but wonder what happened to all those authors that I've never heard of and that I can't find any information about. So I tried agiain to find information about Elizabeth Rebecca Ward, AKA Fay Inchfawn and had better luck than the other day. There isn't much but there is a photo and a short biografi here.
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Early Spring
Early Spring
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Quick through the gates of Fairyland
00 The South Wind forced his way.
'Twas his to make the Earth forget
00 Her grief of yesterday.
"'Tis mine," cried he, "to bring her joy!"
And on his lightsome feet
00 In haste he slung the snowdrop bells,
Pushed past the Fairy sentinels,
00 And out with laughter sweet.
00 The South Wind forced his way.
'Twas his to make the Earth forget
00 Her grief of yesterday.
"'Tis mine," cried he, "to bring her joy!"
And on his lightsome feet
00 In haste he slung the snowdrop bells,
Pushed past the Fairy sentinels,
00 And out with laughter sweet.
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Clear flames of Crocus glimmered on
00 The shining way he went.
He whispered to the trees strange tales
00 Of wondrous sweet intent,
When, suddenly, his witching voice
00 With timbre rich and rare,
Rang through the woodlands till it cleft
00 Earth's silent solitudes, and left
A Dream of Roses there!
Clear flames of Crocus glimmered on
00 The shining way he went.
He whispered to the trees strange tales
00 Of wondrous sweet intent,
When, suddenly, his witching voice
00 With timbre rich and rare,
Rang through the woodlands till it cleft
00 Earth's silent solitudes, and left
A Dream of Roses there!
00 Elizabeth Rebecca Ward, AKA Fay
HAving followed the link, Margaretha, I realised that I have often seen and heard her poem 'If only...' but I'm afraid that I didn't know the poet's name. She deserves more recognition.
SvaraRadera