William Wilfred Campbell Wild Poems

  • 1.
    1 I am a slave, both dumb and blind,
    2 Upon a journey dread;
    3 The iron hills lie far behind,
    4 The seas of mist ahead.
    ...
  • 2.
    Soft fall the February snows, and soft
    Falls on my heart the snow of wintry pain;
    For never more, by wood or field or croft,
    Will he we knew walk with his loved again;
    ...
  • 3.
    1 Strange wanderer out of the deeps,
    2 Whence, journeying, come you?
    3 From what far, unsunned sleeps
    4 Did fate foredoom you,
    ...
  • 4.
    This is the ballad of Langemarck,
    A story of glory and might;
    Of the vast Hun horde, and CanadaĆ¢??s part
    In the great grim fight.
    ...
  • 5.
    OUT forever and forever,
    Where our tresses glint and shiver
    On the icy moonlit air;
    Come we from a land of gloaming,
    ...
  • 6.
    1 For weeks and weeks the autumn world stood still,
    2 Clothed in the shadow of a smoky haze;
    3 The fields were dead, the wind had lost its will,
    4 And all the lands were hushed by wood and hill,
    ...
  • 7.
    SEASON of life's renewal, love's rebirth,
    And all hope's young espousals; in your dream,
    I feel once more the ancient stirrings of Earth.

    ...
  • 8.
    1 He wandered into the market
    2 With pipes and goatish hoof;
    3 He wandered in a grotesque shape,
    4 And no one stood aloof.
    ...
  • 9.
    Along the line of smoky hills
    The crimson forest stands,
    And all the day the blue-jay calls
    Throughout the autumn lands.
    ...
Total 9 Wild Poems by William Wilfred Campbell

Top 10 most used topics by William Wilfred Campbell

Night 18 I Love You 17 Love 17 Earth 15 Great 15 Wind 14 Moon 14 Dream 14 World 13 Red 13

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Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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