Learn More

Edmund Blunden

(1 November 1896 – 20 January 1974 / London / England)

The Child's Grave


I came to the churchyard where pretty Joy lies
On a morning in April, a rare sunny day;
Such bloom rose around, and so many birds' cries
That I sang for delight as I followed the way.

I sang for delight in the ripening of spring,
For dandelions even were suns come to earth;
Not a moment went by but a new lark took wing
To wait on the season with melody's mirth.

Love-making birds were my mates all the road,
And who would wish surer delight for the eye
Than to see pairing goldfinches gleaming abroad
Or yellowhammers sunning on paling and sty?

And stocks in the almswomen's garden were blown,
With rich Easter roses each side of the door;
The lazy white owls in the glade cool and lone
Paid calls on their cousins in the elm's chambered core.

This peace, then, and happiness thronged me around.
Nor could I go burdened with grief, but made merry
Till I came to the gate of that overgrown ground
Where scarce once a year sees the priest come to bury.

Over the mounds stood the nettles in pride,
And, where no fine flowers, there kind weeds dared to wave;
It seemed but as yesterday she lay by my side,
And now my dog ate of the grass on her grave.

He licked my hand wondering to see me muse so,
And wished I would lead on the journey or home,
As though not a moment of spring were to go
In brooding; but I stood, if her spirit might come

And tell me her life, since we left her that day
In the white lilied coffin, and rained down our tears;
But the grave held no answer, though long I should stay;
How strange that this clay should mingle with hers!

So I called my good dog, and went on my way;
Joy's spirit shone then in each flower I went by,
And clear as the noon, in coppice and ley,
Her sweet dawning smile and her violet eye!

Submitted: Saturday, April 03, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Child's Grave by Edmund Blunden )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Moisture, Chideraza Lowell
  2. Bharatheeyakavitha, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
  3. Not A Sound, Tango Tango
  4. - People? - (Haiku), Joe Muschaweck
  5. 男人赋, qin xing
  6. Genetic Predisposition Towords Violence, Is It Poetry
  7. Wild Is The Churning Of The Winds, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  8. Honesty, Nassy Fesharaki
  9. Do Not Be Serious, Kumarmani Mahakul
  10. 24/7, Lawrence S. Pertillar

Poem of the Day

poet Ralph Waldo Emerson

Knows he who tills this lonely field
To reap its scanty corn,
What mystic fruit his acres yield
At midnight and at morn?

In the long sunny afternoon,
...... Read complete »

   

Trending Poems

  1. 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
  2. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  3. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  4. On Turning Ten, Billy Collins
  5. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  6. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  7. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
  8. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  9. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  10. A Smile To Remember, Charles Bukowski

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]