DEAR ONES-. . . And now it's home in our own town I am, with a gusty rain drenching our tall hills and our buildings huddling grey and mournful against a colourless sea. Is that a right welcome for a vagrant - who's loved the sun and the scent of the free ways? It's hard for my eyes to hoi d the narrow street only and not be seeking where a sky would lean over a green field or a wide sea stretch to the edge of the world. ■■> But now it's Easter time, and I'm to stay and you're to go. See that you find the wide and lovely places and use every bit of your days. Soon now they'll be narrowing into wood fires and the : four small corners of the hearth-rug. I shall stay here and hope warm hours for you this last gay holiday before the summer closes. FAIRIEL.
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Bibliographic details
Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 73, 30 March 1929, Page 15
Word Count
150Untitled Evening Post, Volume CVII, Issue 73, 30 March 1929, Page 15
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