Henry Simpson

Henry Simpson Poems

I cursed each tune
Of night-dim wood
And Naiad's stream,
By that mad moon
Asearch for blood
And the waxen gleam

Of dead faces
Under th ...
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The Best Poem Of Henry Simpson

I Cursed Each Tune

I cursed each tune
Of night-dim wood
And Naiad's stream,
By that mad moon
Asearch for blood
And the waxen gleam

Of dead faces
Under the trees
In the trampled grass,
Till the bloody traces
Of the agonies
Of night-time pass.

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