Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems
|81.||A Song Of Defeat||1/1/2004|
|82.||The Secret People||1/1/2004|
|83.||Elegy In A Country Churchyard||1/1/2004|
|85.||The Ballad Of The White Horse||1/1/2004|
|86.||Who Goes Home?||1/1/2004|
|88.||A Prayer In Darkness||1/1/2004|
|90.||A Child Of The Snows||1/1/2004|
|93.||The Rolling English Road||1/1/2004|
|95.||A Ballade Of Suicide||1/1/2004|
|96.||The Last Hero||1/1/2004|
Comments about Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The Last Hero
The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,
You never loved the sun in...
The New Omar
A Book of verses underneath the bough,
Provided that the verses do not scan,
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and Thou,
Short-haired, all angles, looking like a man.
But let the wine be unfermented, Pale,
Of chemicals compounded, God knows how--
This were indeed the Prophet's Paradise,
O Paradise were Wilderness enow.