Poetry & Miscellany
He Does Not Die
from The Four Men
|
“He does not die,” (I wrote) “that can bequeath
Some influence to the land he knows, Or dares, persistent, interwreath Love permanent with the hedgerows; He does not die, but still remains Substantiate with his darling plains. “The spring’s superb adventure calls His dust athwart the woods to flame; His boundary river’s secret falls Perpetuate and repeat his name. He rides his loud October sky: He does not die. He does not die. |
“The beeches knows the accustomed head
Which loved them, and a peopled air Beneath their benediction spread Comforts the silence everywhere; For native ghosts return and these Perfect the mystery in the trees. “So, therefore, though myself be crosst The shuddering of that dreadful day When friend and fire and home are lost And even children drawn away-- The passer-by shall hear me still, A boy that sings on Duncton Hill.” |
Other Poems by Belloc
Sonnet ILift up your hearts in Gumber, laugh the Weald
And you my mother the Valley of Arun sing. Here am I homeward from my wandering, Here am I homeward and my heart is healed. You my companions whom the World has tired Come out to greet me. I have found a face More beautiful than Gardens; more desired Than boys in exile love their native place. Lift up your hearts in Gumber, laugh the Weald And you most ancient Valley of Arun sing. Here am I homeward from my wandering, Here am I homeward and my heart is healed. If I was thirsty, I have found a spring. If I was dusty, I have found a field. |
Sonnet VIYouth gave you to me, but I'll not believe
That Youth will, taking his quick self, take you. Youth's all our Truth: he cannot so deceive. He has our graces, not our ownselves too. He still compares with time when he'll be spent, By human doom enhancing what we are; Enriches us with rare experiment, Lends arms to leagured Age in Time's rough war. Look! This Youth in us is an Old Man taking A Boy to make him wiser than his days. So is our old Youth our young Age's making: So rich in time our final debt he pays. Then with your quite young arms do you me hold And I will still be young when all the World's grown old. |
Sonnet XIVYour life is like a little winter's day
Whose sad sun rises late to set too soon; You have just come - why will you go away, Making an evening of what should be noon? Your life is like a little flute complaining A long way off, beyond the willow trees: A long way off, and nothing left remaining But memory of a music on the breeze. Your life is like a pitiful leave-taking Wept in a dream before a man's awaking, A Call with only shadows to attend: A Benediction whispered and belated Which has no fruit beyond a consecrated, A consecrated silence at the end. |
Sonnet XXXIIThey that have been besides us all the day
Rise up; for they are summoned to the gate. Nor turn the head but take a downward way; Depart, and leave their households desolate. But you shall not depart, although you leave My house for conversation with your peers. Your admirable Ghost shall not receive Mere recollected vows and secret tears. But on that brink of Heaven where lingering stand The still-remembered spirits hearkening down, Go, tower among them all, to hear the land, To hear the land alive with your renown. Nor strength, nor peace, nor laughter could I give But this great wages: after death, to live. |
Epigrams
On His Books
When I am dead, I hope it may be said:
"His sins were scarlet, but his books were read."
"His sins were scarlet, but his books were read."
On Hygiene
Of old when folk lay sick and sorely tried
The doctors gave them physic, and they died.
But here's a happier age: for now we know
Both how to make men sick and keep them so.
The doctors gave them physic, and they died.
But here's a happier age: for now we know
Both how to make men sick and keep them so.
On Mundane Acquaintances
Good morning, Algernon: Good morning, Percy.
Good morning, Mrs Roebeck. Christ have mercy!
Good morning, Mrs Roebeck. Christ have mercy!
On a Puritan
He served his God so faithfully and well
That now he sees him face to face, in hell.
That now he sees him face to face, in hell.
