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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

STONEFOLDS: INTRODUCTION by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON

Poet Analysis

First Line: THE RAGGED HEATHER-RIDGE IS BLACK
Last Line: I LOSE MYSELF IN STARRY SPACE.
The ragged heather-ridge is black
Against the sunset's frosty rose;
With rustling breath, down syke and slack,
The icy, eager north-wind blows.

It shivers through my hair, and flicks
The blood into my tingling cheek;
And with adventurous urging pricks
My spirit, that in drowsy reek

Of glowing peats had dreamt too long,
Crouched in the cosy ingle-nook,
Till life seemed vainer than the song
The kettle sings upon the crook --

Till life seemed vainer than the puff
Of steam that perished in hot air --
A fretful fume, a vapour stuff
Of gusty passion, cloudy care.

But as, once more, I watch the stars
Re-kindle in the glittering west,
Beyond the fell-top's naked scars,
Life rouses in me with new zest.

The immortal wakens in my blood
Beneath the wind's relentless thresh;
And universal life at flood
Breaks through the bonds of bone and flesh.

I scale the utmost peak of night,
The eternal breath upon my face;
Till, borne on plumes of singing light,
I lose myself in starry space.



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