Days Too Short

W. H. Davies

1871 to 1940

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Track 1

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And rills, as soon as born, must sing;
When small clouds are so silvery white
  As though escaped from Nature's hand
  And small, blue violets come between;
Upon their heads in fragrant deeps;
  When merry birds sing on boughs green,
When primroses are out in Spring,
For me, doth wear the veil of Night.
  When such things are, this world too soon,
  Ere perfect quite; and bees will stand
  Each seems a broken rimmèd moon—
When butterflies will make side-leaps,