Christopher Morley Poems
- The Old Swimmer I OFTEN wander on the beach Where once, so ...
- Inscription For A Grammar There were two cheerful pronouns ...
- Animal Crackers Animal crackers and cocoa to drink, That is ...
- Smells WHY is it that the poet tells So little of the sense...
- Only A Matter Of Time DOWN-SLIPPING Time, sweet, swift, and ...
- To A Child The greatest poem ever known Is one all poets ...
- Song For A Little House I'M glad our house is a little house,...
Christopher Morley was an American journalist, novelist, essayist and poet. He also produced stage productions for a few years and gave college lectures.
Christopher Morley was born in Haverford, Pennsylvania. His father, Frank Morley, was a mathematics professor at Haverford College; his mother, Lilian Janet Bird, was a poet and musician who provided Christopher with much of his later love for literature and poetry.
In 1900 the family moved to Baltimore, Maryland. In 1906 Christopher entered Haverford College, graduating in 1910 as valedictorian. He then went to New College, Oxford, for three years on a Rhodes scholarship, studying modern ... more »
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Quotationsmore quotations »
''Life is a foreign language: all men mispronounce it.''Christopher Morley (1890-1957), U.S. novelist, journalist, poet. Thunder on the Left, ch. 14 (1925).
''Dancing is a wonderful training for girls, it's the first way you learn to guess what a man is going to do before he does it.''Christopher Morley (1890-1957), U.S. novelist, journalist, poet. Kitty Foyle, ch. 11 (1939).
Comments about Christopher Morley
The Old Swimmer
I OFTEN wander on the beach
Where once, so brown of limb,
The biting air, the roaring surf
Summoned me to swim.
I see my old abundant youth
Whee combers lean and spill,
And though I taste the foam no more
Other swimmers will.
Oh, good exultant strength to meet
The arching wall of green,
To break the crystal, swirl, emerge
Dripping, taut, and clean.
To climb the moving hilly blue,
To dive in ecstasy
And feel the salty chill embrace
Arm and rib and knee.
What brave and vanished laughter then
And tingling thighs to ...