As I come through the garden, Suddenly all birds seem to cease their singing: The tight-curled buds like birds on the branches swinging Silently shrink and harden On the naked trees that were once green fountains springing. And you are not there, not there, not there, Your laughing face and your windblown hair Leave not even a ghost in the garden.
-Winifred Holtby
Select a background
More quotes by Winifred Holtby
Popular Authors
A curated listing of popular authors.