Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

(14 September 1883 – 19 April 1922 / Gunnersbury, London)

Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall Poems

41. Christ In The Museum 4/20/2010
42. The Little Sister Of The Prophet 4/20/2010
43. In A Monastery Garden 4/20/2010
44. Three Island Songs 4/20/2010
45. In The Gardens Of Shushan 4/20/2010
46. Going Home 4/20/2010
47. Inheritance 4/20/2010
48. Serenade 4/20/2010
49. Sheep 4/20/2010
50. The Lovers Of Marchaid 4/20/2010
51. My Father He Was A Fisherman 4/20/2010
52. Armorel 4/20/2010
53. The Pool 4/20/2010
54. St. Yve’s Poor 4/20/2010
55. Bega 4/20/2010
56. The Immortal 4/20/2010
57. Canada To England 4/20/2010
58. Frost Song 4/20/2010
59. The Lamp Of Poor Souls 1/3/2003
60. To Alcithoë 4/20/2010
61. The House’s Setting 4/20/2010
62. Ecclesiastes 4/20/2010
63. Fame 4/20/2010
64. A Saxon Epitaph 1/3/2003
65. Youth’s End 4/20/2010
66. Dawn 4/20/2010
67. For All Prisoners And Captives 4/20/2010
68. Finis 1/3/2003
69. Exile 1/3/2003
70. Again 4/20/2010
71. English Flowers 4/20/2010
72. Dedication 4/20/2010
73. Evening 4/20/2010
74. The Shepherd Boy 4/20/2010
75. The Green Month 4/20/2010
76. A Child’s Song 4/20/2010
77. Adam And Eve 1/3/2003
78. I Shall Not Go With Pain 4/20/2010
79. Duna 4/20/2010
80. Daisy Time 1/3/2003

Comments about Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

  • Theresa Bourque (2/18/2007 10:58:00 AM)

    I love this poem. I memorized it when I was 9 years old and love it as much to this day

    1 person liked.
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Best Poem of Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

Marching Men

Under the level winter sky
I saw a thousand Christs go by.
They sang an idle song and free
As they went up to calvary.

Careless of eye and coarse of lip,
They marched in holiest fellowship.
That heaven might heal the world, they gave
Their earth-born dreams to deck the grave.

With souls unpurged and steadfast breath
They supped the sacrament of death.
And for each one, far off, apart,
Seven swords have rent a woman's heart.

Read the full of Marching Men

Daisy Time

See, the grass is full of stars,
Fallen in their brightness;
Hearts they have of shining gold,
Rays of shining whiteness.

Buttercups have honeyed hearts,
Bees they love the clover,
But I love the daisies' dance
All the meadow over.

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