Gilbert Keith Chesterton

(29 May 1874 – 14 June 1936 / London, England)

Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems

1. The novels of Jane Austen 10/15/2015
2. Whenever William Cobbett 10/15/2015
3. Sonnet With The Compliments Of The Season 10/24/2014
4. Alliterativism 10/24/2014
5. Confessional 10/24/2014
6. To Edmund Clerihew Bentley 10/24/2014
7. This Is The Sort Of Book We Like 10/24/2014
8. The Song Of Elf 10/24/2014
9. When Fishes Flew 10/24/2014
10. Modern Elfland 4/15/2012
11. Tribute To Gladstone 4/15/2012
12. Rotarians 4/15/2012
13. The New Omar 1/1/2004
14. The Horrible History Of Jones 4/15/2012
15. The Modern Manichee 4/15/2012
16. The Song Of The Wheels 4/15/2012
17. The Philanthropist 4/15/2012
18. Jealousy 4/15/2012
19. Songs Of Education 4/15/2012
20. The Praise Of Dust 4/15/2012
21. St, Francis Xavier 4/15/2012
22. The Mystery 4/15/2012
23. The New Fiction 4/15/2012
24. The Judgement Of England 4/15/2012
25. To St. Micheal In Time Of Peace 4/15/2012
26. Here Is The Little Door 4/15/2012
27. The Wise Men 4/15/2012
28. The Song Of The Oak 1/1/2004
29. A Ballade Of An Anti-Puritan 4/15/2012
30. The Ballad Of St. Barbara 4/15/2012
31. A Ballad Of Theatricals 4/15/2012
32. The Ballad Of God-Makers 4/15/2012
33. A Christmas Carol 4/15/2012
34. Cyclopean 4/15/2012
35. The Wife Of Flanders 1/1/2004
36. A Broad Minded Bishop Rebukes The Verminous St. Francis 4/15/2012
37. Variations Of An Air 1/1/2004
38. A Ballad Of Abbreviations 4/15/2012
39. A Word 4/15/2012
40. The Holy Of Holies 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Gilbert Keith Chesterton

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then surely I was born;

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

Read the full of The Donkey

The Great Minimum

It is something to have wept as we have wept,
It is something to have done as we have done,
It is something to have watched when all men slept,
And seen the stars which never see the sun.

It is something to have smelt the mystic rose,
Although it break and leave the thorny rods,
It is something to have hungered once as those
Must hunger who have ate the bread of gods.

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