Dancing Dust |
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Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000) |
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Pre-Raphaelite villanelle |
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The olive trees are grey and pale But glitter silver in the sun As willow trees in White Horse Vale. On this poor soil, rain-starved and frail, Ochre and white and tawny-dun (The olive trees are grey and pale), Sat Holman Hunt, austerely male, His mediaeval thoughts fine-spun As willow trees in White Horse Vale; Aesthetic-holy as the Grail, His earnest art knows nought of fun; The olive leaves are grey and pale. Suppose the Brotherhood should fail? From Bethlehem his mind might run As willow trees in White Horse Vale To Morris at the dye-vat: 'Hail ― Weave well the web so well begun!' The olive trees are grey and pale As willow trees in White Horse Vale. Undated The Dancing Dust and other poems, 1983 |