Victoria Mary Sackville-west Beneath Poems

  • 1.
    When little lights in little ports come out,
    Quivering down through water with the stars,
    And all the fishing fleet of slender spars
    Range at their moorings, veer with tide about;
    ...
  • 2.
    October 1, 1913

    I
    I left thee in the crowds and in the light,
    ...
  • 3.
    Wine ran; rich yellow wine upon the marble floor
    Recklessly spilled; the Nubians ran to pour
    A fresh libation; and to scatter showers
    Of red rose petals; candles overturned
    ...
  • 4.
    When I am in the Orient once again,
    And turn into the gay and squalid street,
    One side in the shadow, one in vivid heat,
    The thought of England, fresh beneath the rain,
    ...
  • 5.
    Lying on Downs above the wrinkling bay
    I with the kestrels shared the cleanly day,
    The candid day; wind-shaven, brindled turf;
    Tall cliffs; and long sea-line of marbled surf
    ...
  • 6.
    She has an early morning of her own,
    A blending of the mist and sea and sun
    Into an undistinguishable one,
    And Saint Sophia, from her lordly throne
    ...
  • 7.
    That I should live and look with open eyes
    I count as half my claim to Paradise.
    I have not crept beneath cathedral arches,
    But bathed in streams beneath the silver larches;
    ...
  • 8.
    So well she knew them both! yet as she came
    Into the room, and heard their speech
    Of tragic meshes knotted with her name,
    And saw them, foes, but meeting each with each
    ...
  • 9.
    I woke to daylight, and to find
    A wreath of fading vine-leaves, rough entwined,
    Lying, as dropped in hasty flight, upon my floor.

    ...
Total 9 Beneath Poems by Victoria Mary Sackville-west

Top 10 most used topics by Victoria Mary Sackville-west

Beneath 9 Long 8 Thought 7 Yellow 6 Sweet 5 Young 5 Gold 4 Hold 4 Blue 4 Stand 4

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Melville And Coghill - The Place Of The Little Hand
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DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.

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