Alfred Noyes

(16 September 1880 – 25 June 1958 / Wolverhamton)

Alfred Noyes Poems

1. A Loom Of Years 1/1/2004
2. A New Madrigal To An Old Melody 4/6/2010
3. A Prayer In Time Of War 1/3/2003
4. A Song Of Sherwood 1/3/2003
5. Alzuna 4/6/2010
6. An Open Boat 4/6/2010
7. Art 1/3/2003
8. At Dawn 4/6/2010
9. Beethoven In Central Park 4/6/2010
10. Cap'N Storm-Along 4/6/2010
11. Compensations 4/6/2010
12. Cotton-Wool 4/6/2010
13. Daddy Fell Into The Pond. 1/1/2004
14. Dead Man's Morrice 4/6/2010
15. Dedication : To The Memory Of Cecil Spring-Rice 4/6/2010
16. Epilogue 4/6/2010
17. Fashions 4/6/2010
18. Fishers Of Men 4/6/2010
19. Five Critcisms 4/6/2010
20. Haunted In Old Japan 4/6/2010
21. Immortal Sails 4/6/2010
22. Kilmeny (A Song Of The Trawlers) 1/3/2003
23. Lines For A Sun-Dial 4/6/2010
24. Memories Of The Pacific Coast 4/6/2010
25. Michael Oaktree 4/6/2010
26. Moving Through The Dew 4/6/2010
27. Name Sakes 4/6/2010
28. Niobe 4/6/2010
29. Nippon 4/6/2010
30. Old Japan 4/6/2010
31. On A Mountain Top 4/6/2010
32. On The Western Front 4/6/2010
33. Peace 4/6/2010
34. Peace In A Palace 4/6/2010
35. Princeton, May, 1917 1/3/2003
36. Republic And Motherland 4/6/2010
37. Resurrection 1/3/2003
38. Riddles Of Merlin 4/6/2010
39. Shadows On The Down 1/3/2003
40. Shakespeare's Kingdom 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Alfred Noyes

The Highwayman

PART ONE

I

THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

II

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A ...

Read the full of The Highwayman

A Prayer In Time Of War

The war will change many things in art and life, and among them, it is to be hoped, many of our own ideas as to what is, and what is not, "intellectual."

Thou, whose deep ways are in the sea,
Whose footsteps are not known,
To-night a world that turned from Thee
Is waiting -- at Thy Throne.

The towering Babels that we raised
Where scoffing sophists brawl,

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