Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy
Geoffrey Anketell Studdert Kennedy Poems
|2.||Passing The Love Of Women||9/17/2010|
|7.||Solomon In All His Glory||9/17/2010|
|9.||I Know Not Where They Have Laid Him||9/17/2010|
|13.||Non Angli Sed Angeli||9/17/2010|
|14.||What's The Good?||9/17/2010|
|16.||What's The Use Of A Cross To 'Im?||9/17/2010|
|17.||To Stretcher Bearers||9/17/2010|
Our Padre were a solemn bloke,
We called 'im dismal Jim.
It fairly gave ye t' bloomin' creeps,
To sit and 'ark at 'im,
When he were on wi' Judgment Day,
Abaht that great white Throne,
And 'ow each chap would 'ave to stand,
And answer on 'is own.
And if 'e tried to charnce 'is arm,
And 'ide a single sin,
There'd be the angel Gabriel,
Wi' books to do 'im in.
'E 'ad it all writ dahn, 'e said,
And nothin' could be 'id,
'E 'ad it all i' black and white,
And 'E would take no kid.
And every single idle word,
A soldier charnced to say,
'E'd 'ave it...
There was rapture of spring in the morning
When we told our love in the wood,
For you were the spring in my heart, dear lad.
And I vowed that my life was good.
But there's winter of war in the evening,
And lowering clouds overhead,
There's wailing of wind in the chimney nook,
And I vow that my life lies dead.
For the sun may shine on the meadow lands