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. To Edmund Clerihew Bentley 10/24/2014
6. Confessional 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 Song Of The Wheels 4/15/2012
16. The Philanthropist 4/15/2012
17. The Modern Manichee 4/15/2012
18. The Praise Of Dust 4/15/2012
19. The Mystery 4/15/2012
20. The New Fiction 4/15/2012
21. To St. Micheal In Time Of Peace 4/15/2012
22. The Wise Men 4/15/2012
23. The Judgement Of England 4/15/2012
24. St, Francis Xavier 4/15/2012
25. The Song Of The Oak 1/1/2004
26. A Ballade Of An Anti-Puritan 4/15/2012
27. Songs Of Education 4/15/2012
28. The Myth Of Arthur 1/1/2004
29. A Ballad Of Theatricals 4/15/2012
30. The Ballad Of God-Makers 4/15/2012
31. A Christmas Carol 4/15/2012
32. Cyclopean 4/15/2012
33. Jealousy 4/15/2012
34. A Broad Minded Bishop Rebukes The Verminous St. Francis 4/15/2012
35. The Wife Of Flanders 1/1/2004
36. Variations Of An Air 1/1/2004
37. A Ballad Of Abbreviations 4/15/2012
38. The Holy Of Holies 1/1/2004
39. Here Is The Little Door 4/15/2012
40. The Song Of The Strange Ascetic 1/1/2004

Comments about Gilbert Keith Chesterton

There is no comment submitted by members..
Best Poem of Gilbert Keith Chesterton

A Prayer In Darkness

This much, O heaven—if I should brood or rave,
Pity me not; but let the world be fed,
Yea, in my madness if I strike me dead,
Heed you the grass that grows upon my grave.

If I dare snarl between this sun and sod,
Whimper and clamour, give me grace to own,
In sun and rain and fruit in season shown,
The shining silence of the scorn of God.

Thank God the stars are set beyond my power,
If I must travail in a night of wrath,
Thank God my tears will never vex a moth,
Nor any curse of mine cut down a flower.

Read the full of A Prayer In Darkness

The Old Song

A livid sky on London
And like the iron steeds that rear
A shock of engines halted
And I knew the end was near:
And something said that far away, over the hills and far away
There came a crawling thunder and the end of all things here.
For London Bridge is broken down, broken down, broken down,
As digging lets the daylight on the suken streets of yore,
The lightning looked on London town, the broken bridge of London

[Report Error]