Untitled poem by Denise Liverton.
In the dark I rest
Unready for the light which dawns
Day after day
Eager to be shared.
Black silk, shelter me.
I need
More of the night before I open
Eyes and heart
To illumination, I must still
Grow in the dark like a root
Not ready, not ready at all.
Pomfret, by John Lund, 1726-1788.
If situation hath a power to please
If air salubrious can give ease,
If spacious streets and handsome houses join’d,
Can satisfaction raise within his mind, -
If noble ruins mouldering with rust,
Where ancient monarchs mingle with the dust.
If gardens all around can please the eyes,
Embellished o’re with Flora’s painted dyes, -
If peace and plenty, which doth here abide.
(laying all pique and prejudice aside,)
If charms are these worthy of my song,
Come here, ye grave, ye gay, ye old and young,
Come here and view the subject of my theme,
Confess that Pomfret’s worthy of my esteem.
(Pomfret is the ancient name for Pontefract, West Yorkshire)
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