Charlotte Mary Mew
Charlotte Mary Mew Poems
|1.||The Road To Kerity||3/25/2012|
|2.||Fin De Fête||3/25/2012|
|4.||The Sunlit House||3/25/2012|
|5.||Madeline In Church||3/25/2012|
|6.||Not For That City||3/25/2012|
|13.||The Forest Road||3/25/2012|
|14.||In Nunhead Cemetary||3/25/2012|
|15.||Monsieur Qui Passe||1/3/2003|
|17.||I Have Been Through The Gates||1/3/2003|
|20.||From A Window||1/3/2003|
|21.||In The Fields||1/3/2003|
|23.||A Quoi Bon Dire||1/3/2003|
|24.||The Farmer's Bride||1/3/2003|
|26.||The Trees Are Down||1/3/2003|
|28.||I So Liked Spring||1/3/2003|
|29.||My Heart Is Lame||1/3/2003|
|30.||On The Road To The Sea||1/3/2003|
On The Road To The Sea
We passed each other, turned and stopped for half an hour, then went our way,
I who make other women smile did not make you--
But no man can move mountains in a day.
So this hard thing is yet to do.
But first I want your life:--before I die I want to see
The world that lies behind the strangeness of your eyes,
There is nothing gay or green there for my gathering, it may be,
Yet on brown fields there lies
A haunting purple bloom: is there not something in grey skies
And in grey sea?
I want what world there is behind your eyes,
I want your life and you will ...
Not yet will those measureless fields be green again
Where only yesterday the wild sweet blood of wonderful youth was shed;
There is a grave whose earth must hold too long, too deep a stain,
Though for ever over it we may speak as proudly as we may tread.
But here, where the watchers by lonely hearths from the thrust of an inward sword have more slowly bled,
We shall build the Cenotaph: Victory, winged, with Peace, winged too, at the column’s head.
And over the stairway, at the foot—oh! he