Verse > Anthologies > > Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. > The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse
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Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp.  The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse.  1922.
 
The Woods Are Still
By Michael Field (Katherine Harris Bradley) (1846–1914)
 
THE WOODS are still that were so gay at primrose-springing,
Through the dry woods the brown field-fares are winging,
And I alone of love, of love am singing.
 
I sing of love to the haggard palmer-worm,
Of love ’mid the crumpled oak-leaves that once were firm,        5
Laughing, I sing of love at the summer’s term.
 
Of love, on a path where the snake’s cast skin is lying,
Blue feathers on the floor, and no cuckoo flying;
I sing to the echo of my own voice crying.
 
 
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