Collected Poems 1934-1952

Collected Poems 1934-1952

Book - 1966
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Publisher: London : Dent, 1966
Branch Call Number: 821.9/THO
Alternative Title: Especially when the October wind
I see the boys of summer in their ruin
When once the twilight locks no longer
A process in the weather of the heart
Before I knocked and flesh let enter
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
My hero bares his nerves along my wrist
Where once the waters of your face
If I were tickled by the rub of love
Our enunuch dreams, all seedless in the light
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down
From love's first fevert to her plague, from the soft second
In the beginning was the three-pointed star
Light breaks where no sun shines
I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain
I dreamed my genesis in sewat of sleep, breaking
My world is pyramid
all all and all the dry worlds lever
I, in my intricate image, stride on two levels
Incarnate devil in a talking snake
To-day, this insect, and the world I breathe
The seed-at-zero shall not storm
Shall gods be said to thump the clouds
Here in this spring, stars float along the void
Do you not father me, nor the erected arm
Out of the sighs a little comes
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month
Was there a time when dancers with their fiddles
Naw say nay, man dry man
Why East wind chills and south wind cools
A grief ago
How soon the servant sun
Ears in the turrets hear
Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon
The hand that signed the paper felled a city
Should lanterns shine, the holy face
I have longed to move away
Find meat on bones that soon have none
Grief thief of time crawls off
And death shall hve no dominion
Then was my neophyte
Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house
Because the pleasure-bird whistles after the hot wires
I make this in a warring absence
When all my five and country senses see
We lying by seasond, watching yellow
It is the sinners' dust-tongued bell claps me to churches
O make me a mask and a wall to shut from your spies
The spire cranes. Its statue is an aviary
After the funeral, mule praises, brays
Once it was the colour of saying
Not from this anger, anticlimax after
How shall my animal
The tombstone told when she died
On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody
A saint about to fall
If my head hurt a hair's foot
Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes
The conversation of prayer
A refusal to mourn the death, by fire, of a child in London
Poem in October, it was my thirtieth year to heaven
Love in the asylum a stranger has come
To others than you friend by enemy I call you out
This side of the truth
Unluckily for a death
The hunchback in the park
Into her lying down head
Do not go gentle into that good night
Deaths and entrances on almost the incendiary eve
A winter's tale
On a wedding anniversary the sky is torn across
There was a saviour
In my craft or sullen art
On the marriage of a virgin walking alone in a multitude of loves when morning's light
Ceremony after a fire raid myselves the grievers greive among the street burned to tireless death
Once below a time
When I woke, the town spoke
Among those killed in the dawn raid was a man aged a hundred
Lie still, sleep becalmed, sufferer with the wound
Vision and prayer who are you who is born in the next room
Ballad of the long-legged bait the bows glided down, and the coast
Holy Spring o out of a bed of love
Fern Hill now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
In country sleep never and never, my girl riding far and near
Over Sir John's Hill
Poem on his birthday, in the mustardseed sun
Lament when I was a windy boy and a bit
In the white giant's thigh through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry
Elegy : Too proud to die, broken and blind he died


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