English Poems – Page 50

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• The Miner

  Those on the top say they know you, Earth—they are liars.
  You are my father, and the silence I work in is my mother.
  Only the son knows his father. …

  Maxwell Bodenheim

• To an Enemy

  I despise my friends more than you.
  I would have known myself, but they stood before the mirrors
  And painted on them images of the virtues I craved. …

  Maxwell Bodenheim

• To a Discarded Steel Rail

  Straight strength pitched into the surliness of the ditch,
  A soul you have—strength has always delicate secret reasons.
  Your soul is a dull question. …

  Maxwell Bodenheim

• Night and Morning Songs - My Moon

  My moon was lit in an hour of lilies;
  The apple-trees seemed older than ever.
  It rose from matted trees that sever …

  Gordon Bottomley

• Night and Morning Songs - Elegiac Mood

  From song and dream for ever gone
  Are Helen, Helen of Troy,
  And Cleopatra made to look upon, …

  Gordon Bottomley

• Night and Morning Songs - Dawn

  A thrush is tapping a stone
  With a snail-shell in its beak;
  A small bird hangs from a cherry …

  Gordon Bottomley

• Bird of Passion

  Leave the lovely words unsaid;
  For another thought is fled
  From my dream-entangled mind. …

  Rollo Britten

• Retrospect

  In your arms was still delight,
  Quiet as a street at night;
  And thoughts of you, I do remember, …

  Rupert Brooke

• Nineteen-Fourteen - I. Peace

  Now, god be thanked who has matched us with his hour,
  And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping!
  With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, …

  Rupert Brooke

• Nineteen-Fourteen - II. Safety

  Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest
  He who has found our hid security,
  Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest, …

  Rupert Brooke

• Nineteen-Fourteen - III. The Dead

  Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
  There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old,
  But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. …

  Rupert Brooke

• Nineteen-Fourteen - IV. The Dead

  These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
  Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
  The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, …

  Rupert Brooke

• Nineteen-Fourteen - V. The Soldier

  If i should die, think only this of me:
  That there’s some comer of a foreign field
  That is for ever England. There shall be …

  Rupert Brooke

• To Celia - I. Consummation

  There was a strangeness on your lips,
  Lips that had been so sure;
  You still were mine but in eclipse, …

  Witter Bynner

• To Celia - II. During a Chorale by Cesar Franck

  In an old chamber softly lit
  We heard the Chorale played,
  And where you sat, an exquisite …

  Witter Bynner

• To Celia - III. Songs Ascending

  Love has been sung a thousand ways—
  So let it be;
  The songs ascending in your praise …

  Witter Bynner

• Grieve not for Beauty

  Grieve not for the invisible, transported brow
  On which like leaves the dark hair grew,
  Nor for the lips of laughter that are now …

  Witter Bynner

• At Harvest

  Earth travails,
  Like a woman come to her time.
  The swaying corn-haulms …

  Joseph Campbell

• On Waking

  Sleep, gray brother of death,
  Has touched me,
  And passed on. …

  Joseph Campbell

• The Old Woman

  As a white candle
  In a holy place,
  So is the beauty …

  Joseph Campbell

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