Then is not Death at watch
More quotes by Edmund Charles Blunden
The field and wood, all bone-fed loam,
Set up a roaring harvest-home.
I am for the woods against the world,
But are the woods for me?
Can she who shines so calm be fear?
What poison pours she in slumber's ear?
Cricket to us, like you, was more than play,
It was a worship in the summer sun.
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Attribution
Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Edmund Charles Blunden (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.