Category: Poetry

Selections from Modern Poets Made by J. C. Squire

Many good and some great living poets are therefore missing from its pages. Nothing is here by Mr Hardy or Mr Bridges, by Mr A. E. Housman, Mr Yeats, _Æ,_ Mr Binyon, Mr Hewlett, Mr Herbert Trench, Mr Gosse, Mr Austin Dobson, Mr Doughty, Mr Kipling, Sir Henry Newbolt, Mrs Meyne...

Chapters

4. Part 4

Strong is the salt of open sea; Far out, the virgin brine is keen: No home is there for such as he, Out of the beach he is not seen.

7. Part 7

See him lie when the day is dead, Black curves curled on the boarded floor. Sleepy eyes, my sleepy-head-- Eyes that were aflame before. Gentle now, they burn no more; Gentle now...

8. Part 8

In the morning, in the dark, When the stars begin to blunt, By the wall of Barn a Park Dogs I heard and saw them hunt; All the parish dogs were there, All the dogs for miles aro...

11. Part 11

I know you: You are light as dreams, Tough as oak, Precious as gold, As poppies and corn, Or an old cloak: Sweet as our birds To the ear, As the linnet note In the heat Of Midsu...

9. Part 9

And thence in an hour their hunt rides forth, And the chetahs course the shy gazelle To the east or west or south or north, And every eve in a distant vale

2. Part 2

Because of you we will be glad and gay, Remembering you, we will be brave and strong; And hail the advent of each dangerous day, And meet the last adventure with a song. And, as...

5. Part 5

Dreams will be swift and few Ere that last night be done, And gradual silences In each long interim Of halting time awake Confuse all conscious sense. Shadows will grow more dim...

6. Part 6

We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go Always a little further: it may be Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow, Across that angry or that glimmering sea, White on a...

3. Part 3

Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land! There, waiting patiently,

1. Part 1

Many good and some great living poets are therefore missing from its pages. Nothing is here by Mr Hardy or Mr Bridges, by Mr A. E. Housman, Mr Yeats, _Æ,_ Mr Binyon, Mr Hewlett,...

10. Part 10

Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song...

12. Part 12

Before my window, in days of winter hoar Huddled a mournful wood; Smooth pillars of beech, domed chestnut, sycamore, In stony sleep they stood: But you, unhappy elm, the angry w...