Oscar Fay Adams

  • On a Grave in Christ-Church, Hants

    Turning from Shelley’s sculptured face aside,
    And pacing thoughtfully the silent aisles
    Of the gray church that overlooks the smiles
    Of the glad Avon hastening its tide
    To join the seaward-winding Stour, I spied
    Close at my feet a slab among the tiles...

  • At Lincoln

    When i went up the minster tower,
    The minster clock rang out the hour;
        The restless organ far below
        Sent tides of music to and fro,
        That rolled through nave and angel choir,
        Whose builder knew what lines inspire,
        And filled the...