Gerald Gould (1885 – 1936) was an English writer, known as a journalist and reviewer, essayist and poet.
He was brought up in Norwich, and studied at University College, London and Magdalen College, Oxford. He had a position at University College from 1906, and was a Fellow of Merton College, Oxford from 1909 to 1916.
From 1914 he was an official in Masterman's Wellington House Propaganda Department, which may explain his failiure to produce much poetry concerned with the War. He also worked as a journalist on the Daily Herald as one of Lansbury's Lambs — the group of idealistic young men helping with it after George Lansbury purchased it in 1913, and which included ... more »
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Gerald Gould Poems
BEYOND the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea, And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be; It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye; For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!
I gathered with a careless hand, There where the waters night and day Are languid in the idle bay, A little heap of golden sand;
1 Those were our freedoms, and we come to this: The climbing road that lures the climbing feet
I came to Oxford in the light Of a spring-coloured afternoon; Some clouds were grey and some were white, And all were blown to such a tune
Tis But a Week
'Tis but a week since down the glen The trampling horses came --Half a hundred fighting men With all their spears aflame!
This Is The Horror That, Night After Nig...
This is the horror that, night after night, Sits grinning on my pillow -- that I meant To mix the peace of being innocent
Comments about Gerald Gould
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
BEYOND the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye;
For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!
I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are;
But a man can have the sun for a friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the rivers call, and the roads call, and oh! the call of the bird!
Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and ...