William Allingham

Here you will find the Poem Little Dell, The of poet William Allingham

Little Dell, The

Doleful was the land, 
Dull on, every side, 
Neither soft n'or grand, 
Barren, bleak, and wide; 
Nothing look'd with love; 
All was dingy brown; 
The very skies above 
Seem'd to sulk and frown.

Plodding sick and sad, 
Weary day on day; 
Searching, never glad, 
Many a miry way; 
Poor existence lagg'd 
In this barren place; 
While the seasons dragg'd 
Slowly o'er its face. 

Spring, to sky and ground, 
Came before I guess'd; 
Then one day I found 
A valley, like a nest! 
Guarded with a spell 
Sure it must have been, 
This little fairy dell 
Which I had never seen. 

Open to the blue, 
Green banks hemm'd it round 
A rillet wander'd through 
With a tinkling sound; 
Briars among the rocks 
Tangled arbours made; 
Primroses in flocks 
Grew beneath their shade. 

Merry birds a few, 
Creatures wildly tame, 
Perch'd and sung and flew; 
Timid field-mice came; 
Beetles in the moss 
Journey'd here and there; 
Butterflies across 
Danced through sunlit air. 

There I often read, 
Sung alone, or dream'd; 
Blossoms overhead, 
Where the west wind stream'd; 
Small horizon-line, 
Smoothly lifted up, 
Held this world of mine 
In a grassy cup. 

The barren land to-day 
Hears my last adieu: 
Not an hour I stay; 
Earth is wide and new. 
Yet, farewell, farewell! 
May the sun and show'rs 
Bless that Little Dell 
Of safe and tranquil hours!