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letra de mrs. macqueen - herbert howells

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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

- herbert howells

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