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. The Tombstone Told When She Died 3/30/2010
3. I Make This In A Warring Absence 3/30/2010
4. Unluckily For A Death 3/30/2010
5. If My Head Hurt A Hair's Foot 3/30/2010
6. Find Meat On Bones 3/30/2010
7. In The White Giant's Thigh 3/30/2010
8. How Soon The Servant Sun 3/30/2010
9. Once Below A Time 3/30/2010
10. Why East Wind Chills 3/30/2010
11. It Is The Sinners' Dust-Tongued Bell 3/30/2010
12. On The Marriage Of A Virgin 3/30/2010
13. To Others Than You 3/30/2010
14. Grief Thief Of Time 3/30/2010
15. Out Of The Sighs 3/30/2010
16. This Bread I Break 3/30/2010
17. We Lying By Seasand 3/30/2010
18. Then Was My Neophyte 1/3/2003
19. Into Her Lying Down Head 3/30/2010
20. When I Woke 3/30/2010
21. Limerick 3/30/2010
22. Over Sir John's Hill 3/30/2010
23. Notes On The Art Of Poetry 3/30/2010
24. Hold Hard, These Ancient Minutes In The Cuckoo's Month 1/3/2003
25. Prologue 1/3/2003
26. Should Lanterns Shine 1/3/2003
27. Vision And Prayer 1/13/2003
28. In Country Sleep 3/30/2010
29. Here In This Spring 3/30/2010
30. To-Day, This Insect 1/3/2003
31. January 1939 1/3/2003
32. On No Work Of Words 1/3/2003
33. When All My Five And Country Senses See 1/3/2003
34. Twenty Four Years 1/3/2003
35. I Fellowed Sleep 1/3/2003
36. When, Like A Running Grave 1/3/2003
37. How Shall My Animal 1/3/2003
38. From Love's First Fever To Her Plague 1/3/2003
39. The Conversation Of Prayer 1/3/2003
40. Our Eunuch Dreams 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

I See The Boys Of Summer


I see the boys of summer in their ruin
Lay the gold tithings barren,
Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils;
Theire in their heat the winter floods
Of frozen loves they fetch their girls,
And drown the cargoed apples in their tides.

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