Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FOREFATHER, by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON Poet's Biography First Line: Here at the country inn Last Line: Surges hot through my heart. Subject(s): Hearts; Night; Pain; Peace; Bedtime; Suffering; Misery | ||||||||
HERE at the country inn, I lie in my quiet bed, And the ardent onrush of armies Throbs and throbs in my head. Why, in this calm, sweet place, Where only silence is heard, Am I ware of the crash of conflict, -- Is my blood to battle stirred? Without, the night is blessed With the smell of pines, with stars; Within, is the mood of slumber, The healing of daytime scars. 'T is strange, -- yet I am thrall To epic agonies; The tumult of myriads dying Is borne to me on the breeze. Mayhap in the long ago My forefather grim and stark Stood in some hell of carnage, Faced forward, fell in the dark; And I, who have always known Peace with her dove-like ways, Am gripped by his martial spirit Here in the after days. I cannot rightly tell: I lie, from all stress apart, And the ardent onrush of armies Surges hot through my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTHENOPHIL AND PARTHENOPHE: MADRIGAL 14 by BARNABE BARNES SONNETS IN SHADOWS: 1 by ARLO BATES IN PRAISE OF PAIN by HEATHER MCHUGH THE SYMPATIZERS by JOSEPHINE MILES LEEK STREET by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR BLACK SHEEP by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |
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