Dark Glen Yew HWLN 04 060

2024-09-20T00:00:00Z

Dark Glen Yew Her brothers were the craggy hills, Her sisters larchen trees; Alone with her great family She lived as she did please. No breakfast had she many a morn, No dinner many a noon, And 'stead of supper she would stare Full hard against the moon. But every morn of woodbine fresh She made her garlanding, And every night the dark glen yew She wove, and she would sing. And with her fingers, old and brown, She plaited mats of rushes, And gave them to the cottagers She met among the bushes. (p. 196). Keats, John. "Meg Merrilies." 1818. The Poems of John Keats . G. Newnes, 1902. https://archive.org/details/poemskeat00keatuoft