Fringford Brook by Violet Jacob

One Poem Only · Jul 8, 2025 · 2m

Fringford Brook

Violet Jacob 1863 – 1946

The willows stand by Fringford brook,

From Fringford up to Hethe,

Sun on their cloudy silver heads,

And shadow underneath.

They ripple to the silent airs

That stir the lazy day,

Now whitened by their passing hands,

Now turned again to grey.

The slim marsh-thistle's purple plume

Droops tasselled on the stem,

The golden hawkweeds pierce like flame

The grass that harbours them;

Long drowning tresses of the weeds

Trail where the stream is slow,

The vapoured mauves of water-mint

Melt in the pools below;

Serenely soft September sheds

On earth her slumberous…