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herbert howells - mrs. macqueen lyrics
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with glass like a bull’s_eye
and shutters of green
down on the cobbles
lives mrs. macqueen
at six she rises;
at nine you see
her candle shine out
in the linden tree:
and at half_past nine
not a sound is nigh
but the bright moon’s creeping
across the sky;
or a far dog baying;
or a twittering bird
in its drowsy nest
in the darkness stirred;
or like the roar
of a distant sea
a long_drawn s_s_sh
in the linden tree
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