Dylan Thomas

(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953 / Swansea / Wales)

Dylan Thomas Poems

1. Shall Gods Be Said To Thump The Clouds 3/30/2010
2. Find Meat On Bones 3/30/2010
3. Unluckily For A Death 3/30/2010
4. Once Below A Time 3/30/2010
5. To Others Than You 3/30/2010
6. In The White Giant's Thigh 3/30/2010
7. If My Head Hurt A Hair's Foot 3/30/2010
8. How Soon The Servant Sun 3/30/2010
9. I Make This In A Warring Absence 3/30/2010
10. On The Marriage Of A Virgin 3/30/2010
11. Out Of The Sighs 3/30/2010
12. The Tombstone Told When She Died 3/30/2010
13. Grief Thief Of Time 3/30/2010
14. In Country Sleep 3/30/2010
15. It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell 3/30/2010
16. Why East Wind Chills 3/30/2010
17. We Lying By Seasand 3/30/2010
18. Into Her Lying Down Head 3/30/2010
19. Notes On The Art Of Poetry 3/30/2010
20. When I Woke 3/30/2010
21. Over Sir John's Hill 3/30/2010
22. Limerick 3/30/2010
23. Should Lanterns Shine 1/3/2003
24. This Bread I Break 3/30/2010
25. On No Work Of Words 1/3/2003
26. Prologue 1/3/2003
27. Our Eunuch Dreams 1/3/2003
28. Then Was My Neophyte 1/3/2003
29. To-Day, This Insect 1/3/2003
30. The Conversation Of Prayer 1/3/2003
31. Vision And Prayer 1/13/2003
32. From Love's First Fever To Her Plague 1/3/2003
33. Once It Was The Colour Of Saying 1/3/2003
34. I Fellowed Sleep 1/3/2003
35. Here In This Spring 3/30/2010
36. How Shall My Animal 1/3/2003
37. Incarnate Devil 1/3/2003
38. Now 1/3/2003
39. Ceremony After A Fire Raid 3/30/2010
40. The Seed-At-Zero 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Dylan Thomas

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.


Read the full of Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Foster The Light

Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon,
Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone,
But strip the twelve-winded marrow from his circle;
Master the night nor serve the snowman's brain
That shapes each bushy item of the air
Into a polestar pointed on an icicle.

Murmur of spring nor crush the cockerel's eggs,
Nor hammer back a season in the figs,

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