I ask no lovelier thing Than this December silver: See how the light flakes off the new-turned plough Under the slow great swing Of branches, silver-boled; Not all the silken, tender ways of spring Can over-pass this cold And windy beauty; see Where thin-blown ripples spreading Pattern the water with a mesh of gold. Not war, nor present misery, Can rout earth’s ageless peace Or check the steady rhythm of her soil To yield and year’s increase. Yet sun in earth, yet love in man works on, And shall not cease.
Dorothy Margaret Paulin
Dorothy Margaret Paulin is best known for poems which illustrate the beauty of her native Dumfriesshire.Read more about this poet