Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt Poems

1. A Ballad Of The Heather 4/13/2010
2. A Chaunt In Praise 4/13/2010
3. A Convent Wothout God 4/13/2010
4. A Cuckoo Song 4/13/2010
5. A Day In The Castle Of Envy 4/13/2010
6. A Digit Of The Moon 4/13/2010
7. A Dream 4/13/2010
8. A Dream Of Good 4/13/2010
9. A Glory Gone 4/13/2010
10. A Lesson In Humility 4/13/2010
11. A Love Secret 4/13/2010
12. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet I 4/13/2010
13. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Ii 4/13/2010
14. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Iii 4/13/2010
15. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Iv 4/13/2010
16. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Ix 4/13/2010
17. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet V 4/13/2010
18. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Vi 4/13/2010
19. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Vii 4/13/2010
20. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Viii 4/13/2010
21. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet X 4/13/2010
22. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xii 4/13/2010
23. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xiii 4/13/2010
24. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xiv 4/13/2010
25. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xix 4/13/2010
26. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xl 4/13/2010
27. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xv 4/13/2010
28. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xvi 4/13/2010
29. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xvii 4/13/2010
30. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xviii 4/13/2010
31. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xx 4/13/2010
32. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxi 4/13/2010
33. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxii 4/13/2010
34. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxiii 4/13/2010
35. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxiv 4/13/2010
36. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxix 4/13/2010
37. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxv 4/13/2010
38. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxvi 4/13/2010
39. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxvii 4/13/2010
40. A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet Xxviii 4/13/2010
Best Poem of Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Laughter And Death

THERE is no laughter in the natural world
Of beast or fish or bird, though no sad doubt
Of their futurity to them unfurled
Has dared to check the mirth-compelling shout.
The lion roars his solemn thunder out
To the sleeping woods. The eagle screams her cry.
Even the lark must strain a serious throat
To hurl his blest defiance at the sky.
Fear, anger, jealousy, have found a voice.
Love’s pain or rapture the brute bosoms swell.
Nature has symbols for her nobler joys,
Her nobler sorrows. Who had dared foretell
That only man, by some sad ...

Read the full of Laughter And Death

Written At Florence

O WORLD, in very truth thou art too young;
When wilt thou learn to wear the garb of age?
World, with thy covering of yellow flowers,
Hast thou forgot what generations sprung
Out of thy loins and loved thee and are gone?
Hast thou no place in all their heritage
Where thou dost only weep, that I may come
Nor fear the mockery of thy yellow flowers?
   O world, in very truth thou art too young.

[Hata Bildir]