Clive Staples Lewis
Clive Staples Lewis Poems
|1.||Tu Ne Quaesieris||3/21/2012|
|6.||Milton Read Again (In Surrey)||3/21/2012|
|10.||The Ocean Strand||3/21/2012|
|16.||Ode For New Year's Day||3/21/2012|
|17.||Le Roi S’amuse||3/21/2012|
|20.||Song Of The Pilgrims||3/21/2012|
|21.||How He Saw Angus, The God||3/21/2012|
|24.||The Autumn Morning||3/21/2012|
|29.||Here The Whole World||3/21/2012|
|30.||Hymn (For Boys' Voices)||3/21/2012|
|31.||Our Daily Bread||3/21/2012|
|33.||The Future Of Forestry||3/21/2012|
|34.||In Praise Of Solid People||3/21/2012|
|36.||Death In Battle||3/21/2012|
|38.||French Nocturne (Monchy-Le-Preux)||3/21/2012|
|39.||Prelude To Space||1/1/2004|
As The Ruin Falls
All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.
Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek--
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.
Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get ...
I thought there would be a grave beauty, a sunset splendour
In being the last of one's kind: a topmost moment as one watched
The huge wave curving over Atlantis, the shrouded barge
Turning away with wounded Arthur, or Ilium burning.
Now I see that, all along, I was assuming a posterity
Of gentle hearts: someone, however distant in the depths of time,
Who could pick up our signal, who could understand a story. There won't be.
Between the new Hembidae and us who are dying, already