John Davidson

(11 April 1857 – 23 March 1909 / Barrhead, East Renfrewshire, Scotland)

John Davidson Poems

1. A Northern Suburb 5/21/2012
2. A Cinque Port 4/16/2010
3. London 4/16/2010
4. A Loafer 1/3/2003
5. Song 1/4/2003
6. A Runnable Stag 1/3/2003
7. Song Of A Train 1/3/2003
8. The Last Rose 1/4/2003
9. Snow 1/3/2003
10. In Romney Marsh 1/3/2003
11. Thirty Bob A Week 1/3/2003
12. War Song 1/3/2003
13. Imagination 1/3/2003
14. A Ballad Of Hell 1/3/2003
15. Battle 1/3/2003

Comments about John Davidson

  • Peter Mclaren (9/14/2012 4:05:00 PM)

    There is a very good short essay on Davidson in Derek Stanford's 'Poets Of The Nineties' anthology. Most of his contemporaries - Dowson, Wilde, Symonds, Plarr - sought to make musical poems; Davidson is all awkward intellectualism expressed in a take-it -or-leave-it language all his own. He is the most convincingly sincere of his contemporaries: reading him now one catches a vivid impresion of an odd (and remarkable) man who died over 100 years ago. And of what he saw in London, rather than what kind of poem he could make of London

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Best Poem of John Davidson

Battle

The war of words is done;
The red-lipped cannon speak;
The battle has begun.

The web your speeches spun
Tears and blood shall streak;
The war of words is done.

Smoke enshrouds the sun;
Earth staggers at the shriek
Of battle new begun.

Poltroons and braggarts run:
Woe to the poor, the meek!
The war of words is done.

"And hope not now to shun
The doom that dogs the weak,"
Thunders every gun;

"Victory must be won."
When the red-lipped cannon speak,
The war of words is done,
The slaughter has begun.

Read the full of Battle
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