Clive Staples Lewis

[C.S.] (29 November 1898 – 22 November 1963 / Belfast)

Clive Staples Lewis Poems

1. Tu Ne Quaesieris 3/21/2012
2. Alexandrines 3/21/2012
3. Milton Read Again (In Surrey) 3/21/2012
4. Night (Ii) 3/21/2012
5. L’apprenti Sorcier 3/21/2012
6. Le Roi S’amuse 3/21/2012
7. The Witch 3/21/2012
8. The Spook 3/21/2012
9. Night 3/21/2012
10. Ode For New Year's Day 3/21/2012
11. The Autumn Morning 3/21/2012
12. The Satyr 3/21/2012
13. Victory 3/21/2012
14. Oxford 3/21/2012
15. Ballade Mystique 3/21/2012
16. Lullaby 3/21/2012
17. World's Desire 3/21/2012
18. The Ocean Strand 3/21/2012
19. The Philosopher 3/21/2012
20. To Sleep 3/21/2012
21. Song Of The Pilgrims 3/21/2012
22. How He Saw Angus, The God 3/21/2012
23. The Star-Bath 3/21/2012
24. Our Daily Bread 3/21/2012
25. The Ass 3/21/2012
26. Irish Nocturne 3/21/2012
27. Apology 3/21/2012
28. In Prison 3/21/2012
29. Dungeon Grates 3/21/2012
30. Hymn (For Boys' Voices) 3/21/2012
31. In Praise Of Solid People 3/21/2012
32. Here The Whole World 3/21/2012
33. Hesperus 3/21/2012
34. Noon 3/21/2012
35. De Profundis 3/21/2012
36. The Future Of Forestry 3/21/2012
37. Death In Battle 3/21/2012
38. French Nocturne (Monchy-Le-Preux) 3/21/2012
39. On A Vulgar Error 1/1/2004
40. Prelude To Space 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Clive Staples Lewis

As The Ruin Falls

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek--
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get ...

Read the full of As The Ruin Falls

The Meteorite

Among the hills a meteorite
Lies huge; and moss has overgrown,
And wind and rain with touches light
Made soft, the contours of the stone.

Thus easily can Earth digest
A cinder of sidereal fire,
And make her translunary guest
The native of an English shire.

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