Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE MIDNIGHT SKATERS, by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN



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THE MIDNIGHT SKATERS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: The hop-poles stand in cones
Last Line: And let him hate you through the glass.
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund
Subject(s): Death; England; Landscape; Skating & Skaters; Sports; Dead, The; English


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 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.




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