|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FOR THERE IS NO HELP IN THEM, by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: She lies on that white breast she loves, and well Last Line: So disenchanted and so sadly wise. Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies | |||
SHE lies on that white breast she loves, and well Studies that mother-face, which is so wise: Whose rose and primrose heaven unchangeable Coys on her smile, spring-sunlight-sweet. She lies Awake, alone, wrapt all in wool, and cold And burning; light glares down, a roseless -- Hark! Who comes? she fights to gaze, and half has rolled Her hurt head round, when there is nought but dark. She lies in state; the old green looking-glass Reflects the baby-carriage, where half-hid A white box holds the joy that is as grass; A dull plant droops its dusk. One lifts the lid, Meets the small pearl face, the dark peering eyes, So disenchanted and so sadly wise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST CHILDREN by RANDALL JARRELL THE MOURNER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN MELANCHOLY; AN ODE by WILLIAM BROOME SISTERS IN ARMS by AUDRE LORDE A BOTANICAL TROPE by WILLIAM MEREDITH FOR MOHAMMED ZEID OF GAZA, AGE 15 by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE ALMSWOMEN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |
| |