She Who Was The Helmet-Maker’s Beautiful Wife Poem by Ernest Hilbert
She Who Was The Helmet-Maker’s Beautiful Wife
All that was shaped will be sunk clear of chance,
And all printed given out to be sung.
Felon, old friend, death will not travel long.
Linger in rain at the center of the park,
Risked, bettered, delivered to prefix and song:
Warres in latter ages ended in darke.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Topic(s) of this poem: song,travel
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8/7/2026 3:13:08 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
