Dylan Thomas

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

Dylan Thomas Poems

41. Now 1/3/2003
42. To-Day, This Insect 1/3/2003
43. Once It Was The Colour Of Saying 1/3/2003
44. I Fellowed Sleep 1/3/2003
45. My World Is Pyramid 1/3/2003
46. How Shall My Animal 1/3/2003
47. When Once The Twilight Locks No Longer 1/3/2003
48. Sometimes The Sky's Too Bright 1/3/2003
49. Not From This Anger 1/3/2003
50. O Make Me A Mask 1/13/2003
51. Foster The Light 1/3/2003
52. A Saint About To Fall 3/30/2010
53. I Have Longed To Move Away 1/3/2003
54. I Dreamed My Genesis 1/3/2003
55. My Hero Bares His Nerves 1/3/2003
56. Where Once The Waters Of Your Face 1/3/2003
57. Was There A Time 1/3/2003
58. Being But Men 4/27/2011
59. Holy Spring 1/3/2003
60. Because The Pleasure-Bird Whistles 3/30/2010
61. I See The Boys Of Summer 1/3/2003
62. There Was A Saviour 1/3/2003
63. I, In My Intricate Image 1/3/2003
64. Do You Not Father Me 3/30/2010
65. The Hand That Signed The Paper 1/3/2003
66. Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed 1/3/2003
67. This Side Of The Truth 1/3/2003
68. A Grief Ago 3/30/2010
69. A Winter's Tale 3/30/2010
70. On A Wedding Anniversary 1/3/2003
71. Lament 1/3/2003
72. In The Beginning 1/3/2003
73. The Hunchback In The Park 11/12/2005
74. Poem On His Birthday 1/3/2003
75. Poem In October 1/3/2003
76. If I Were Tickled By The Rub Of Love 1/3/2003
77. Ballad Of The Long-Legged Bait 1/3/2003
78. All That I Owe The Fellows Of The Grave 1/3/2003
79. Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines 1/3/2003
80. All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever 1/13/2003
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.

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

I See The Boys Of Summer

I

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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