The Symbol Poem by James Hebblethwaite

The Symbol

Rating: 3.1


Thus pass the glories of the world!
He lies beneath the pall’s white folds:
His sword is sheathed, his pennon furled,
Him silence holds.

The pilgrim staff, the cockle shell,
The crown, the sceptre of his pride,
The simple flower from forest dell,
Heap at his side.

And add thereto the wild-heart lute
The voice of love and twilight song;
Those passioned strings though he is mute
Remember long.

And move not thence his evening book,
The sifted grains of calm and storm;
And bow before that dust-strewn nook
And silent form.

To-morrow hath no hope for him,
No clasp of friend, no grip of foe:
Remember, love, with eyes tear-dim,
We too must go.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Morgan 31 August 2014

This is a perfectly measured poem- perfect, regardless of epoch, expressive of stoical sentiments disturbing to fantacists, thereby accounting for its tepid reception. 'His sword is sheathed, his pennon furled' is particularly effective. MM.

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I get the impression that this poem is about an eternally resting knight or prince perhaps a statue in a church or grave yard.. it's a very poem about chivalry and honor..

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Kay Staley 28 August 2014

This may be in the 'modern poems' section but I find it extremely formal and old fashioned sounding. Can't say I enjoyed it.

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Pranab K Chakraborty 29 August 2012

To-morrow hath no hope for him, / No clasp of friend, no grip of foe: ............. practically these burdens are heavy for man to bear everyday life. Better rest him peace. Tight and close to thoughts. Words are matched to express the wisdom.................... Pranab k c

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James Hebblethwaite

James Hebblethwaite

Preston, Lancashire, England
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