Muriel Stuart

(1889-1967 / England)

Muriel Stuart Poems

1. The Bellman 1/1/2004
2. To A Poet, Charles Bridges 1/1/2004
3. Sic Transit 4/12/2010
4. The Cloudberry 4/12/2010
5. The Father 4/12/2010
6. The Harebell 4/12/2010
7. The New Aspasia 4/12/2010
8. The Thief Of Beauty 4/12/2010
9. The Tryst 4/12/2010
10. Words 4/12/2010
11. Shrift 4/12/2010
12. The Wood And The Shore 4/12/2010
13. Thèlus Wood 4/12/2010
14. To----- 4/12/2010
15. White Magic 4/12/2010
16. The Balcony 1/1/2004
17. The Fools 1/1/2004
18. Possession 1/1/2004
19. Tintagel 1/1/2004
20. To The Old Gods 1/1/2004
21. The Chalice Of Circe 1/1/2004
22. The Dead Moment 1/1/2004
23. Wild Geese Across The Moon 1/1/2004
24. The End Of Love 1/1/2004
25. In Praise Of Mandragora 1/1/2004
26. Ave Et Vale 4/12/2010
27. Enough 4/12/2010
28. In Memory Of Douglas Vernon Cow 4/12/2010
29. Boys Bathing 4/12/2010
30. For Fasting Days 4/12/2010
31. Now 1/1/2004
32. Andromeda Unfettered 4/12/2010
33. Lady Hamilton 4/12/2010
34. Mrs. Effingham's Swan Song 4/12/2010
35. Obsession 4/12/2010
36. Annunciation 4/12/2010
37. A Chicot 1/1/2004
38. Ave Et Vale 1/1/2004
39. Leda 4/12/2010
40. Man And His Makers 4/12/2010
Best Poem of Muriel Stuart

In The Orchard

'I thought you loved me.' 'No, it was only fun.'
'When we stood there, closer than all?' 'Well, the harvest moon
Was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head.'
'That made you?' 'Yes.' 'Just the moon and the light it made
Under the tree?' 'Well, your mouth, too.' 'Yes, my mouth?'
'And the quiet there that sang like the drum in the booth.
You shouldn't have danced like that.' 'Like what?' 'So close,
Whith your head turned up, and the flower in your hair, a rose
That smelt all warm.' 'I loved you. I thought you knew
I wouldn't have danced like that with any...

Read the full of In The Orchard

The Balcony

A STREET at night, a silent square
That mirth forbids;
Whose windows, with drawn lips and narrowed lids,
Resent the intruder's stare.

Where winds are cautious in their play,
Where only steals
Some meager brougham on its muffled wheels
Before the portals grey.

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