Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

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

Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall Poems

81. Bartimeus Grown Old 4/20/2010
82. Mary Tired 4/20/2010
83. Marching Men 1/3/2003
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.

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Exile

I chose the place where I would rest
When death should come to claim me,
With the red-rose roots to wrap my breast
And a quiet stone to name me.

But I am laid on a northern steep
With the roaring tides below me,
And only the frosts to bind my sleep,
And only the winds to know me.

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