Lesbia Harford

(1891 - 1927 / Australia)

Lesbia Harford Poems

121. The Tyrant 4/15/2010
122. Deliverance Through Art 4/15/2010
123. Appearances 4/15/2010
124. Today Is Rebels' Day. And Yet We Work 4/15/2010
125. Street Music 4/15/2010
126. Once I Thought My Love Was Worth The Name 4/15/2010
127. When Day Is Over 4/15/2010
128. To Plato's Dictum 4/15/2010
129. The Folk I Love 4/15/2010
130. Suburban Dames 4/15/2010
131. If You Have Loved A Brave Story 4/15/2010
132. Summer Lightning 1/1/2004
133. This Evening I'M Alone. 4/15/2010
134. This Year I Have Seen Autumn With New Eyes 4/15/2010
135. I Can'T Feel The Sunshine 4/15/2010
136. Adventurers 4/15/2010
137. Summer Lightning 4/15/2010
138. The Silent Dead 4/15/2010
139. They Are So Glad Of A Young Companion, 4/15/2010
140. The Love I Look For 4/15/2010
141. Fatherless 4/15/2010
142. The Psychological Craze 4/15/2010
143. The People Have Drunk The Wine Of Peace 4/15/2010
144. The Immigrant 4/15/2010
145. The Invisible People 4/15/2010
146. I Count The Days Until I See You 4/15/2010
147. The Electric Tram To Kew 4/15/2010
148. Girl's Love 4/15/2010
149. My Lovely Pixie, My Good Companion, 4/15/2010
150. A Lady And I Were Walking 4/15/2010
151. Ay, Ay, Ay, The Lilies Of The Garden 4/15/2010
152. Birthday 4/15/2010
153. Buddha In The Workroom 4/15/2010
154. A Sophistical Argument 4/15/2010
155. The Sisters 4/15/2010
156. To Leslie 4/15/2010
157. An Improver 4/15/2010
158. The Nuns And The Lilies 4/15/2010
159. All Knowledge . . . 4/15/2010
160. All Through The Day At My Machine 4/15/2010

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Best Poem of Lesbia Harford

A Meaning Learnt

I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
Me down beside the ditch, a drooped thing
Some country boy may stick into his hat.
A paramour has no more use than that.

Read the full of A Meaning Learnt

Summer Lightning

Just now, as warm day faded from our sight
Hosts of archangels, fleet
On lighting-winged feet
Passed by, all glimmering in the busy night



Sweet angels, bringing no blinding truth to birth
Give us no messages
From heavenly palaces;
Leave us our dark trees and our starlight earth.

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