Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt Poems

361. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xc 4/13/2010
362. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xcii 4/13/2010
363. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xciii 4/13/2010
364. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xciv 4/13/2010
365. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xcix 4/13/2010
366. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xcv 4/13/2010
367. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xcvi 4/13/2010
368. The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Xcviii 4/13/2010
369. The Old Squire 1/1/2004
370. The Pleasures Of Love 4/13/2010
371. The Pre-Adamite World 4/13/2010
372. The Rowfant Catalogue 4/13/2010
373. The Soul’s Mutiny 4/13/2010
374. The Stealing Of The Mare - I 4/13/2010
375. The Stricken Hart 4/13/2010
376. The Toad 4/13/2010
377. The Two Highwaymen 1/4/2003
378. The Two Voices 4/13/2010
379. The Wanderer’s Return 4/13/2010
380. The Wind And The Whirlwind 4/13/2010
381. The Wisdom Of Merlyn 4/13/2010
382. They Shall Not Know 4/13/2010
383. Think No More Of Me 4/13/2010
384. Three Pictures 4/13/2010
385. Three Pictures Continued 4/13/2010
386. To A Dead Journalist 4/13/2010
387. To A Disciple Of William Morris 4/13/2010
388. To A Happy Warrior 4/13/2010
389. To Her Whose Name 4/13/2010
390. To Hester On The Stair 4/13/2010
391. To Manon, Comparing Her To A Falcon 4/13/2010
392. To Manon, On His Fortune In Loving Her 1/4/2003
393. To Nimue 4/13/2010
394. To One In A Garden 4/13/2010
395. To One In A Hostile Camp 4/13/2010
396. To One Who Would Make A Confession 4/13/2010
397. To The Same 1/1/2004
398. Twenty Days 4/13/2010
399. Une Feuille Morte 4/13/2010
400. Whom The Gods Love 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

The Two Highwaymen

I LONG have had a quarrel set with Time
Because he robb'd me. Every day of life
Was wrested from me after bitter strife:
I never yet could see the sun go down
But I was angry in my heart, nor hear
The leaves fall in the wind without a tear
Over the dying summer. I have known
No truce with Time nor Time's accomplice, Death.
   The fair world is the witness of a crime

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