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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MIDNIGHT FIRES, by GORDON BOTTOMLEY Poet's Biography First Line: The narrow wings of sunset spread and sank Last Line: Our lights burn low; and so send out their light. Subject(s): Great Britain; Patriotism | |||
THE narrow wings of sunset spread and sank Like a last rosy day-moth floating down To settle on the dark flower of the world: The evening star in stillness now descends Toward the down of light that lies and dies On mountain crests and hard-backed equal clouds, As though a drop of dew in the near sky Suspended should there fill with the first ray Of a hid moon, large, liquid, low. Night and its old obscurity at last Seem to be rising from the firm-felt ground. Upon this lonely height dim shapes of men Gather as to a hosting, as men drew Together when the mountain-beacons broke The midnight to wild flame and danger cried. These now are peaceful shapes who murmur and wait Beneath the bare and unaccustomed night That like a dim, enclosing, builded vault Imposes awe; yet now they move together As by one breath when far, and far, and far, The lofty nipples of the earth shine out In pullulation as of bright pale buds On a sky-filling bough of some great tree, Urged by a sap in surge with victory. There is a dawn now breaking in the North Above huge Skiddaw in its rocky herd; Helvellyn is alight, and Coniston Man; Yoke shines on Kentmere; Harter Fell is kindled; Now fire is out at Shap, and Benson Knott Speaks up for Kendal where Englishmen have waited Such flaming news of war or war-won peace A thousand years; now Barbon Fell comes out; Now Ingleborough lights up a coronal Of brightness and of number and amazement; And out across the great bay's night-filled waters John O'Gaunt's town remembers and thrusts up Its flaming brand, too, on the accustomed height; While our home beacon leaps on Warton Crag Among primeval forts of Britain and nigh The stones where the unknown Three Brothers sleep After some battle early on in time. But see: beside this burning traffic on high, The mind of Britain is shining from the earth, Gentle and still and steadfast. Here a million Low lamps too clear to sparkle fill the grass And demonstrate the serviceable earth; The kindred of the glow-worms is awake Intent upon its purpose, the elder Britons Who kept their lights undimmed when foreign feet Were thick among them, and shone changelessly When the hard Roman beasts let go their hold Upon our land, and when the nobler Danes And Norsemen were cast out, and when the Normans Were changed upon their victory to men Not other than Britons, and when the Spaniards And Frenchmen threatened and failed upon the waters. These are aware of Britain, only of Britain; They know that foemen cannot alter it, That only Britons can diminish it, And that it must be what it is until Our lights burn low; and so send out their light. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SHINE, REPUBLIC by ROBINSON JEFFERS NIGHT WITHOUT SLEEP by ROBINSON JEFFERS SEVEN LAMENTS FOR THE WAR-DEAD: 6 by YEHUDA AMICHAI A CAROL FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM A SONG OF VICTORY by EDWIN MARKHAM BROTHERHOOD (1) by EDWIN MARKHAM THE ERRAND IMPERIOUS by EDWIN MARKHAM |
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