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Frank Stewart Flint - Four Poems in Unrhymed Cadence - I. lyrics

London, my beautiful,
it is not the sunset
nor the pale green sky
shimmering through the curtain
of the silver birch,
nor the quietness;
it is not the hopping
of the little birds
upon the lawn,
nor the darkness
stealing over all things
that moves me.

[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/frank-stewart-flint/four-poems-in-unrhymed-cadence/four-poems-in-unrhymed-cadence-i.html]
But as the moon creeps slowly
over the tree-tops
among the stars,
I think of her
and the glow her passing
sheds on men.

London, my beautiful,
I will climb
into the branches
to the moonlit tree-tops,
that my blood may be cooled
by the wind.

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