Friday, March 24, 2006

Poetry Friday

Kelly at Big A little a is starting a Poetry Friday. I read more poetry as a kid than I do now. Part of the reason is that we had anthologies and the like at the house, most being books my mother had purchased for college classes. One of my favorites was The Arbuthnot Anthology of Children's Literature, 4th edition. Not the typical favorite of your regular fourth grader, but I loved it. Which goes to show, that the books you have around the house, waiting for your child to discover, are important.

Anyway, this is a poem that was included in that Anthology. It gave me chills then, and it still moves me. And it started a love of all things Robin Hood (TV or movie).


A SONG OF SHERWOOD
by
ALFRED NOYES

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon,
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs:
Love is in the greenwood, dawn is in the skies,
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep!
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather.
The dead are coming back again, the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows.
All the heart of England hid in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold,

Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men--
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day--

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash,
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly,
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.


Michele at Scholar's Blog shares one of her favorite poems.

5 comments:

Kelly said...

Very nice poem,Liz. Thanks for posting it!

Michele said...

Thanks for the link to my Blog Liz !

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the poem, Liz! And I completely agree with you "that the books you have around the house, waiting for your child to discover, are important." I was lucky that way, too!

Liz B said...

I'm glad that you all liked the poem!

Michele, you're welcome. I love that poem, also.

Jen, once I have some time for a long post I think I'm going to list all the great reads I found just from picking up a book of a shelf.

Andromeda Jazmon said...

I don't remember ever reading this poem before . Now I love it! What gorgeous language.

I also pay careful attention to the books I have around the house, waiting for my kids to discover them. That is the main focus of my home collection, in fact. It's kind of a fun secret hobby; collecting books with each son in mind but not telling them.