Poetry Books

BALLADE OF THE PRIMITIVE JEST "What did the dark-haired Iberian laugh at before the tall blondeAryan drove him into the corners of Europe?"—Brander Matthews I am an ancient Jest!Palaeolithic manIn his arboreal nestThe sparks of fun would fan;My outline did he plan,And laughed like one possessed,'Twas thus my course began,I am a Merry Jest! I am an early Jest!Man delved, and built, and... more...

THE MAN IN THE MOONThe Man in the MoonCame tumbling down,And asked his way to Norwich; They told him south,And he burnt his mouthWith eating cold pease-porridge.TO MARKET, TO MARKETTo market, to market, to buy a fat Pig; Home again, home again, dancing a jig. To market, to market, to buy a fat Hog; Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.THERE WAS A MANThere was a man, and he had nought,  And robbers came... more...

PROUD SIGNILD. Proud Signild’s bold brothers have taken her hand,They’ve wedded her into a far distant land. They’ve wedded her far from her own native land,To her father’s foul murderer gave they her hand. And so for eight winters the matter it stood,Their face for eight winters she never once view’d. Proud Signild she brews, and the ruddy wine blends;To her brothers so courteous a bidding... more...

How Lisa loved the King. Six hundred years ago, in Dante’s time,Before his cheek was furrowed by deep rhyme;When Europe, fed afresh from Eastern story,Was like a garden tangled with the gloryOf flowers hand-planted and of flowers air-sown,Climbing and trailing, budding and full-blown,Where purple bells are tossed amid pink stars,And springing blades, green troops in innocent wars,Crowd every shady... more...

GUARDS! A Review in Hyde Park 1913.The Crowd Watches. WHERE the trees rise like cliffs, proud and  blue-tinted in the distance,Between the cliffs of the trees, on the grey-  green parkRests a still line of soldiers, red motionless range of  guardsSmouldering with darkened busbies beneath the bay-  onets' slant rain. Colossal in nearness a blue police sits still on his horseGuarding the... more...

CANTO XI "O thou Almighty Father, who dost makeThe heavens thy dwelling, not in bounds confin'd,But that with love intenser there thou view'stThy primal effluence, hallow'd be thy name:Join each created being to extolThy might, for worthy humblest thanks and praiseIs thy blest Spirit.  May thy kingdom's peaceCome unto us; for we, unless it come,With all our striving thither... more...

CANTO I O'er better waves to speed her rapid courseThe light bark of my genius lifts the sail,Well pleas'd to leave so cruel sea behind;And of that second region will I sing,In which the human spirit from sinful blotIs purg'd, and for ascent to Heaven prepares. Here, O ye hallow'd Nine! for in your trainI follow, here the deadened strain revive;Nor let Calliope refuse to soundA... more...

Cultural Misappropriation is that what I hear you cry, citizen? If a delph-glazed moon with its O so delicate pattern pans over Holland, flat as a tack, it also comes by way of the Antarctic circle right to your doorstep in equal measure. If the sun clamps its golden torque on mosque or synagogue, pa, cathedral or sacred site, does this endorse any one people over another? Is it your wish to head off... more...

BEING A WORD ON BEHALF OF PATCHOULI. AN ingenuous reviewer once described some verses of mine as "unwholesome," because, he said, they had "a faint smell of Patchouli about them." I am a little sorry he chose Patchouli, for that is not a particularly favourite scent with me. If he had only chosen Peau d'Espagne, which has a subtle meaning, or Lily of the Valley, with which I have... more...

DEDICATION Bob Southey! You're a poet, poet laureate,And representative of all the race.Although 'tis true that you turned out a Tory atLast, yours has lately been a common case.And now my epic renegade, what are ye atWith all the lakers, in and out of place?A nest of tuneful persons, to my eyeLike four and twenty blackbirds in a pye, Which pye being opened they began to sing'(This old... more...