Charlotte Mary Mew
Charlotte Mary Mew Poems
|2.||The Road To Kerity||3/25/2012|
|3.||Fin De Fête||3/25/2012|
|5.||Madeline In Church||3/25/2012|
|6.||The Sunlit House||3/25/2012|
|7.||Not For That City||3/25/2012|
|13.||The Forest Road||3/25/2012|
|15.||In Nunhead Cemetary||3/25/2012|
|16.||Monsieur Qui Passe||1/3/2003|
|20.||I Have Been Through The Gates||1/3/2003|
|21.||From A Window||1/3/2003|
|22.||In The Fields||1/3/2003|
|24.||The Farmer's Bride||1/3/2003|
|27.||The Trees Are Down||1/3/2003|
|28.||A Quoi Bon Dire||1/3/2003|
|29.||On The Road To The Sea||1/3/2003|
|30.||My Heart Is Lame||1/3/2003|
|31.||I So Liked Spring||1/3/2003|
I So Liked Spring
I so liked Spring last year
Because you were here;-
The thrushes too-
Because it was these you so liked to hear-
I so liked you.
This year's a different thing,-
I'll not think of you.
But I'll like the Spring because it is simply spring
As the thrushes do.
Not yet will those measureless fields be green again
Where only yesterday the wild sweet blood of wonderful youth was shed;
There is a grave whose earth must hold too long, too deep a stain,
Though for ever over it we may speak as proudly as we may tread.
But here, where the watchers by lonely hearths from the thrust of an inward sword have more slowly bled,
We shall build the Cenotaph: Victory, winged, with Peace, winged too, at the column’s head.
And over the stairway, at the foot—oh! he