Here you will find the Poem In the Dim Counties of poet John Shaw Neilson
In the dim counties we take the long calm Lilting no haziness, sequel or psalm. The little street wenches, The holy and clean, Live as good neighbours live under the green. Malice of sunbeam or menace of moon Piping shall leave us no taste of a tune. In the dim counties the eyelids are dumb, To the lean citizens Love cannot come. Love in the yellowing, Love at the turn, Love o' the cooing lip? how should he burn? The little street wenches, the callous, unclean ?Could they but tell us what all the gods mean. Love cannot sabre us, blood cannot flow, In the dim counties that wait us below.
