Dawns Angels

In the shower of dawn's Slow daylight, kissed by Angels locks, there came A wave of bird sounds, Then barking crafty fox And I in nature’s orchestra, Amid the fusty scores, the Sound of waking voices, Pushed slow through leafy doors Then carried these across The plain and back by echoes March, not stopped by winter’s Cudgel, nor bending bough Of larch So trickle me, streams water- Hand, and babble to the brook And hold me fierce like laughing Giant, holds page of nature’s book And I’ll not stir to country leave For city's wicked grip, for there The rasp of bloodless wind, sends Out the its wiry whip So build the wall’s bucolic fort And wrest me all the more, Where chick and weasel miss The stare of eagles’ horny claw And if one morn through mist And rain, the tocsin sounds Its bell, remember me o’er styal And dell, so far from city hell