Newsletter

But coming home I feel like I
Designed the buildings I walk by

For singing till his heaven fills,
’T is love of earth that he instils

There’s none less free than who
Does nothing and has nothing else to do

Against the bridal day, which was not long:
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song

The birds, the fountains & the Ocean hold
Sweet talk in music through the enamoured air

This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green,
Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes