The British

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1. Old And New Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not. Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own. Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger. I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in […]...
2. The Young British Soldier When the ‘arf-made recruity goes out to the East ‘E acts like a babe an’ ‘e drinks like a beast, An’ ‘e wonders because ‘e is frequent deceased Ere ‘e’s fit for to serve as a soldier. Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, […]...
3. Houses People who are afraid of themselves Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out Into clanging strangers’ laughter, Crowd under roofs, make compacts To no more than smile at each other. People who might meet their own faces Or surprise their own voices […]...
4. Journey Home The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long. I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my Voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet. It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, […]...
5. A British-Roman Song (A. D. 406) “A Centurion of the Thirtieth” Puck of Pook’s Hill My father’s father saw it not, And I, belike, shall never come To look on that so-holly spot That very Rome Crowned by all Time, all Art, all Might, The equal work of Gods and Man, City beneath whose oldest height The Race […]...
6. The Song of the Little Hunter Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade, And the whisper spreads and widens […]...
7. The British Church I joy, dear mother, when I view Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both sweet and bright. Beauty in thee takes up her place, And dates her letters from thy face, When she doth write. A fine aspect in fit array, Neither too mean nor yet too gay, Shows who is best. Outlandish looks may not […]...
8. At the British Museum I turn the page and read: “I dream of silent verses where the rhyme Glides noiseless as an oar.” The heavy musty air, the black desks, The bent heads and the rustling noises In the great dome Vanish… And The sun hangs in the cobalt-blue sky, The boat drifts over the lake shallows, The fishes […]...
9. Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences As Deity decree Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? […]...
10. An Unfamiliar Path Walking an unfamiliar path that you’ve Never trod before, Or knocking on a strange and unfamiliar Door, Can be extremely scary as you never Really know Exactly who’s behind the door or where The path will go. Yet these are things we all must do To excel in life and grow, To find ourselves a […]...
11. On the Field of Kulicovo The river stretched. It flows, idly grieves, And washes both banks. In steppe, above light clay of cliffs Rinks mourn in ranks. O Russia! Dear wife! With clearness and pain We see the lengthy way! It sent an arrow of ancient Tartar reign – In breast it lay. The way through steppes and an incessant […]...
12. The Corridor It may have been the pride in me for aught I know, or just a patronizing whim; But call it freak of fancy, or what not, I cannot hide the hungry face of him. I keep a scant half-dozen words he said, And every now and then I lose his name; He may be living […]...
13. Sonnet 15 – Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Too calm and sad a face in front of thine; For we two look two ways, and cannot shine With the same sunlight on our brow and hair. On me thou lookest with no doubting care, As on a bee shut in a crystalline; Since sorrow hath […]...
14. Fear I know how father’s strap would feel, If ever I were caught, So mother’s jam I did not steal, Though theft was in my thought. Then turned fourteen and full of pitch, Of love I was afraid, And did not dare to dally with Our pretty parlour maid. And so it is and always was, […]...
15. Cold A cold February wind Crawls up my leg And rattles my knees A preacher fumbles Over the verses That I know by heart Why doesn’t he know them? Quaking, I sit Watching two unknown Men folding the flag Each turn means something; I forget The coffin is a beautiful wood I wonder whose grave This […]...
16. On Living I Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel, for example I mean without looking for something beyond and above living, I mean living must be your whole occupation. Living is no laughing matter: you must take it seriously, so much so and to such a degree that, for […]...
17. My Philosophy of Life Just when I thought there wasn’t room enough For another thought in my head, I had this great idea Call it a philosophy of life, if you will. Briefly, It involved living the way philosophers live, According to a set of principles. OK, but which ones? That was the hardest part, I admit, but I […]...
18. All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever I All all and all the dry worlds lever, Stage of the ice, the solid ocean, All from the oil, the pound of lava. City of spring, the governed flower, Turns in the earth that turns the ashen Towns around on a wheel of fire. How now my flesh, my naked fellow, Dug of the […]...
19. Another Imitation Of Anacreon PRONE, on my couch I calmly slept Against my wont. A little child Awoke me as he gently crept And beat my door. A tempest wild Was raging-dark and cold the night. “Have pity on my naked plight,” He begged, “and ope thy door”. “Thy name?” I asked admitting him. “The same “Anon I’ll tell, […]...
20. The Apparitions Because there is safety in derision I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sense. Distrustful of thar popular eye Whether it be bold or sly. Fifteen apparitions have I seen; The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger. I have found nothing half so good […]...
21. The Hero Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a Strange and dangerous country. You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a Red horse. It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi Lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren. […]...
22. Mowgli's Song The Song of Mowgli I, Mowgli, am singing. Let the jungle listen to the things I have done. Shere Khan said he would kill would kill! At the gates in the twilight he would kill Mowgli, the Frog! He ate and he drank. Drink deep, Shere Khan, for when wilt thou drink again? Sleep and […]...
23. Mandalay By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin’ eastward to the sea, There’s a Burma girl a-settin’, and I know she thinks o’ me; For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say: “Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!” Come you back to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay: […]...
24. Epitaph in a Church-Yard in Charleston, South Carolina GEORGE AUGUSTUS CLOUGH A NATIVE OF LIVERPOOL, DIED SUDDENLY OF “STRANGER’S FEVER” NOV’R 5th 1843 AGED 22 He died of “Stranger’s Fever” when his youth Had scarcely melted into manhood, so The chiselled legend runs; a brother’s woe Laid bare for epitaph. The savage ruth Of a sunny, bright, but alien land, uncouth With cruel […]...
25. Love and a Question A stranger came to the door at eve, And he spoke the bridegroom fair. He bore a green-white stick in his hand, And, for all burden, care. He asked with the eyes more than the lips For a shelter for the night, And he turned and looked at the road afar Without a window light. […]...
26. Sandhill People I TOOK away three pictures. One was a white gull forming a half-mile arch from the pines toward Waukegan. One was a whistle in the little sandhills, a bird crying either to the sunset gone or the dusk come. One was three spotted waterbirds, zigzagging, cutting scrolls and jags, writing a bird Sanscrit of wing […]...
27. In Snow O English mother, in the ruddy glow Hugging your baby closer when outside You see the silent, soft, and cruel snow Falling again, and think what ills betide Unshelter’d creatures, your sad thoughts may go Where War and Winter now, two spectre-wolves, Hunt in the freezing vapour that involves Those Asian peaks of ice and […]...
28. Celestial Music I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God. She thinks someone listens in heaven. On earth she’s unusually competent. Brave too, able to face unpleasantness. We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it. I’m always […]...
29. Daisy Plus quan se atque suos amavit omnes, Nunc… – Catullus You were my playmate by the sea. We swam together. Your girl’s body had no breasts. We found prawns among the rocks; We liked to feel the sun and to do nothing; In the evening we played games with the others. It made me glad […]...
30. Dream Song 85: Op. posth. no. 8 Flak. An eventful thought came to me, Who squirm in my hole. How will the matter end? Who’s king these nights? What happened to. . . day? Are ships abroad? I would like to but may not entertain a friend. Save me from ghastly frights, Triune! My wood or word seems to be rotting. I […]...
31. Artist He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMISSION Cajoled the passers-by to stop; Just to admire – no need to purchase, Although his price might have been low: But no proud artist ever urges Potential buyers at his show. Of course he badly needed money, But more he […]...
32. To The Students Of The Workers' And Peasants' Faculty So there you sit. And how much blood was shed That you might sit there. Do such stories bore you? Well, don’t forget that others sat before you Who later sat on people. Keep your head! Your science will be valueless, you’ll find And learning will be sterile, if inviting Unless you pledge your intellect […]...
33. The Starling “‘I can’t get Out’, said the starling.” Sterne’s ‘Sentimental Journey’. Forever the impenetrable wall Of self confines my poor rebellious soul, I never see the towering white clouds roll Before a sturdy wind, save through the small Barred window of my jail. I live a thrall With all my outer life a clipped, square hole, […]...
34. Natural Magic WE air tired who follow after Phantasy and truth that flies: You with only look and laughter Stain our hearts with richest dyes. When you break upon our study Vanish all our frosty cares; As the diamond deep grows ruddy, Filled with morning unawares. With the stuff that dreams are made of But an empty […]...
35. The Elves Elves are no smaller Than men, and walk As men do, in this world, But with more grace than most, And are not immortal. Their beauty sets them aside From other men and from women Unless a woman has that cold fire in her Called poet: with that She may see them and by its […]...
36. Age Most explicit The sense of trap As a narrowing Cone one’s got Stuck into and Any movement Forward simply Wedges once more But where Or quite when, Even with whom, Since now there is no one Quite with you Quite? Quiet? English expression: Quait? Language of singular Impedance? A dance? An Involuntary gesture to Others […]...
37. The Heart Healed and Changed by Mercy Sin enslaved me many years, And led me bound and blind; Till at length a thousand fears Came swarming o’er my mind. “Where,” said I, in deep distress, “Will these sinful pleasures end? How shall I secure my peace And make the Lord my friend?” Friends and ministers said much The gospel to enforce; But […]...
38. Tests ALL submit to them, where they sit, inner, secure, unapproachable to analysis, in the Soul; Not traditions-not the outer authorities are the judges-they are the judges of outer authorities, and of all traditions; They corroborate as they go, only whatever corroborates themselves, and touches themselves; For all that, they have it forever in themselves to […]...
39. Loon Point Softly the water ripples Against the canoe’s curving side, Softly the birch trees rustle Flinging over us branches wide. Softly the moon glints and glistens As the water takes and leaves, Like golden ears of corn Which fall from loose-bound sheaves, Or like the snow-white petals Which drop from an overblown rose, When Summer ripens […]...
40. Under the Violets HER hands are cold; her face is white; No more her pulses come and go; Her eyes are shut to life and light; Fold the white vesture, snow on snow, And lay her where the violets blow. But not beneath a graven stone, To plead for tears with alien eyes; A slender cross of wood […]...