Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LONDON, by FRANCIS (FRANK) STEWART FLINT Poet Analysis First Line: London, my beautiful Last Line: By the wind. Subject(s): London | ||||||||
London, my beautiful, it is not the sunset nor the pale green sky shimmering through the curtain of the silver birch, nor the quietness; it is not the hopping of birds upon the lawn, nor the darkness stealing over all things that moves me. But as the moon creeps slowly over the tree-tops among the stars, I think of her and the glow her passing sheds on men. London, my beautiful, I will climb into the branches to the moonlit tree-tops, that my blood may be cooled by the wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHARF ON THAMES-SIDE: WINTER DAWN by LAURENCE BINYON THE IDLER'S CALENDAR: MAY. THE LONDON SEASON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A LONDON THOROUGHFARE, 2 A.M. by AMY LOWELL SPRING WIND IN LONDON by KATHERINE MANSFIELD A BALLAD OF WHITECHAPEL by ISAAC ROSENBERG LONDON, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE |
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