Christopher John Brennan

(1 November 1870 – 5 October 1932 / Sydney / Australia)

Christopher John Brennan Poems

1. When The Spring Mornings Grew More Long 3/1/2010
2. The Watch At Midnight 3/1/2010
3. Liminary 3/1/2010
4. Spring-Ripple Of Green Along The Way 3/1/2010
5. White Dawn, That Tak'st The Heaven With Sweet Surprise 3/1/2010
6. Under A Sky Of Uncreated Mud 3/1/2010
7. The Grand Cortège Of Glory And Youth Is Gone 3/1/2010
8. The Twilight Of Disquietude 3/1/2010
9. The Winter Eve Is Clear And Chill 3/1/2010
10. Interlude: The Window And The Hearth 3/1/2010
11. Mdcccxciii: A Prelude 3/1/2010
12. When Summer Comes In Her Glory 3/1/2010
13. Of Old, On Her Terrace At Evening 3/1/2010
14. Was It The Sun That Broke My Dream 3/1/2010
15. Old Wonder Flush'D The East Anew 3/1/2010
16. The Yellow Gas 1/1/2004
17. Sweet Silence After Bells 1/1/2004
18. O White Wind, Numbing The World 1/1/2004
19. Quis Pro Domino 1/1/2004
20. Poppies 1/4/2003
21. Spring Breezes 1/1/2004
22. Summer Noon 1/1/2004
23. Romance 1/4/2003
24. Interlude: The Hearth And The Window 3/1/2010
25. Deep Mists Of Longing Blur The Land 3/1/2010
26. 1897 3/1/2010
27. Interlude: The Casement 3/1/2010
28. And Shall The Living Waters Heed 3/1/2010
29. Black On The Depths 3/1/2010
30. My Heart Was Wandering In The Sands 1/1/2004
31. Dies Dominica! The Sunshine Burns 3/1/2010
32. Droop'st Thou And Fail'st? But These Have Never Tired 3/1/2010
33. An Hour's Respite 3/1/2010
34. The Pangs That Guard The Gates Of Joy 1/1/2004
35. Dawns Of The World, How I Have Known You All... 3/1/2010
36. Ii. The Quest Of Silence 3/1/2010
37. And Does She Still Perceive 3/1/2010
38. I Saw My Life As Whitest Flame 3/1/2010
39. Come Out, Come Out 3/1/2010
40. Four Springtimes Lost: And In The Fifth We Stand 3/1/2010
Best Poem of Christopher John Brennan

Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her

If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?

Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I ...

Read the full of Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her

The Yellow Gas

The yellow gas is fired from street to street
past rows of heartless homes and hearths unlit,
dead churches, and the unending pavement beat
by crowds - say rather, haggard shades that flit

round nightly haunts of their delusive dream,
where'er our paradisal instinct starves: -
till on the utmost post, its sinuous gleam
crawls in the oily water of the wharves;

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