| The hop-poles stand in cones, |
| The icy pond
lurks under, |
| The pole-tops steeple to the thrones |
| Of stars,
sound gulfs of wonder ; |
| But not the tallest there, ’tis said, |
Could fathom to this pond’s black bed.
|
| Then is not death at watch |
| Within those
secret waters ? |
| What wants he but to catch |
| Earth’s
heedless sons and daughters ? |
| With but a crystal parapet |
Between, he has his engines set.
|
| Then on, blood shouts, on, on, |
| Twirl, wheel
and whip above him, |
| Dance on this ball-floor thin and wan, |
| Use him as
though you love him ; |
| Court him, elude him, reel and pass, |
And let him hate you through the glass.
|
| Edmund
Blunden |
Classic Poems |
| |
|
[ Forefathers ] [ Report on Experience ] [ The Midnight Skaters ] |
| |
| "The Midnight Skaters", "Forefathers", and "Report
on Experience" by Edmund Blunden can be found in his collection
Poems of Many Years (copyright ©Estate of Claire Blunden 1957)
and are reproduced by permission of PFD (www.pfd.co.uk)
on behalf of the Estate of Claire Blunden. |
| |
| |
