Lelant

A poem written by E. K. Chambers Month and Day are not recorded and cannot be properly cited with the year

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                    Lelant from "Poems of to-day: first and second series"
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                <edition>
                    First and Second Series
                    <date>February 15, 2019</date>
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                <publisher>University of Nebraska&#8211;Lincoln</publisher>
                <distributor>
                    <name>Zayne Foster's Encoding Assignements</name>
                    <address>
                        <addrLine>206 Andres</addrLine>
                        <addrLine>University of 
                            Nebraska&#8211;Lincoln</addrLine>
                        <addrLine>Lincoln, NE 68588-4100</addrLine>
                        <addrLine>zayne.w.foster@gmail.com</addrLine>
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                <date>2019</date>
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                    <p>Copyright &#169; 2019 by Zayne Foster</p>
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                    <title level="a">
                        Poems of to-day: first and second series
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                    <author>
                        Sidgwick and Jackson
                    </author>
                    <date when="1924">1924</date>
                    <publisher>
                        Published for the English Association
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                    <pubPlace>
                        London
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                    Zayne Foster
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                Transcribed and Encoded a Poem
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                <head>95. LELANT</head>
                <head>(In Memory of Thomasine Trenoweth, aged 23)</head>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>The little meadow by the sand,</l>
                    <l>Where Tamsin lies, is ringed about</l>
                    <l>With acres of the scented thyme.</l>
                    <l>The salt wind blows in all that land;</l>
                    <l>The great clouds pace across the skies;</l>
                    <l>Rare wanderers from the ferry climb.</l>
                    <l>One might sleep well enough, no doublt,</l>
                    <l>Where Tamsin lies.</l>
                </lg>
                <lg type="stanza">
                    <l>Tamsin has sunshine now and wind,</l>
                    <l>And all in life she might not have,</l>
                    <l>The silence and the utter peace</l>
                    <l>That tempest-winnowed spirits find</l>
                    <l>On slopes that front the western wave</l>
                    <l>The white gulls circle without cease</l>
                    <l>O'er Tamsin's grave.</l>
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                <signed>>E. K. Chambers.</signed>
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Lelant from "Poems of to-day: first and second series" First and Second Series February 15, 2019 University of Nebraska–Lincoln Zayne Foster's Encoding Assignements
206 Andres University of Nebraska–Lincoln Lincoln, NE 68588-4100 zayne.w.foster@gmail.com
2019

Copyright © 2019 by Zayne Foster

 Poems of to-day: first and second series Sidgwick and Jackson 1924 Published for the English Association London Zayne Foster Transcribed and Encoded a Poem 95. LELANT (In Memory of Thomasine Trenoweth, aged 23) The little meadow by the sand, Where Tamsin lies, is ringed about With acres of the scented thyme. The salt wind blows in all that land; The great clouds pace across the skies; 5 Rare wanderers from the ferry climb. One might sleep well enough, no doublt, Where Tamsin lies. Tamsin has sunshine now and wind, And all in life she might not have, The silence and the utter peace That tempest-winnowed spirits find On slopes that front the western wave 5 The white gulls circle without cease O'er Tamsin's grave. >E. K. Chambers.

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Lelant from "Poems of to-day: first and second series" First and Second Series February 15, 2019 University of Nebraska–Lincoln Zayne Foster's Encoding Assignements
206 Andres University of Nebraska–Lincoln Lincoln, NE 68588-4100 zayne.w.foster@gmail.com
2019

Copyright © 2019 by Zayne Foster

 Poems of to-day: first and second series Sidgwick and Jackson 1924 Published for the English Association London Zayne Foster Transcribed and Encoded a Poem 95. LELANT (In Memory of Thomasine Trenoweth, aged 23) The little meadow by the sand, Where Tamsin lies, is ringed about With acres of the scented thyme. The salt wind blows in all that land; The great clouds pace across the skies; Rare wanderers from the ferry climb. One might sleep well enough, no doublt, Where Tamsin lies. Tamsin has sunshine now and wind, And all in life she might not have, The silence and the utter peace That tempest-winnowed spirits find On slopes that front the western wave The white gulls circle without cease O'er Tamsin's grave. >E. K. Chambers.