Poem: The Sower by Robert Crawford

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In tracking up his rhymes he seems to pace
   A moony path, indeed.
Even as a shadowy sower in a dream
   Might sow his faery seed:
In such a mystic world he seems to move,  
   And so unreal he,  
The seeds of fancy are indeed the things  
   He sets to melody.      

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 10 July 1926

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on June 18, 2011 9:04 AM.

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