William Cosmo Monkhouse Earth Poems
Spring Song In The City
WHO remains in London,
In the streets with me,
Now that Spring is blowing
Warm winds from the sea; ...
A Dead March
PLAY me a march, low-tonâ??d and slowâ??a march for a silent tread,
Fit for the wandering feet of one who dreams of the silent dead,
Lonely, between the bones below and the souls that are overhead.
HOW slowly creeps the hand of Time
On the old clockâ??s green-mantled face!
Yea, slowly as those ivies climb,
The hours roll round with patient pace; ...
The Summer Pool
THERE is a singing in the summer air,
The blue and brown moths flutter oâ??er the grass,
The stubble bird is creaking in the wheat,
And perchâ??d upon the honeysuckle-hedge ...
The Dream Of The World Without Death
NOW, sitting by her side, worn out with weeping,
Behold, I fell to sleep, and had a vision,
Wherein I heard a wondrous Voice intoning:
â??T WAS the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay in the Field of Blood;
â??T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Beside the body stood. ...
by William Cosmo Monkhouse
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Poem of the day
Success And Failure by Edgar Albert Guest
I do not think all failure's undeserved,
And all success is merely someone's luck;
Some men are down because they were unnerved,
And some are up because they kept their pluck.
Some men are down because they chose to shirk;
Some men are high because they did their work.
I do not think that all the poor are good,
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