Order of the Rising Sun (Japanese 旭日章),was an English poet, very popular in his lifetime on the strength of a small number of anthology pieces, such as The Bull. He was one of the more 'pastoral' of the Georgian poets. In 1954, he was awarded the Queen's Gold Medal for Poetry.
He seems to have covered his tracks in relation to much of his life; he was averse to publicity. This has led to claims that he was reticent. Far from that being the case, his friend Walter De La Mare found him an almost exhausting talker; but he made a point of personal privacy. He kept up a copious correspondence with other poets and literary figures, including those he met in his time... more »
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Ralph Hodgson Poems
The Gypsy Girl
'Come, try your skill, kind gentlemen, A penny for three tries!' Some threw and lost, some threw and won A ten-a-penny prize.
A Wood Song
Now one and all, you Roses, Wake up, you lie too long! This very morning closes The Nightingale his song;
The Bells of Heaven
'Twould ring the bells of Heaven The wildest peal for years, If Parson lost his senses And people came to theirs,
See an old unhappy bull, Sick in soul and body both, Slouching in the undergrowth Of the forest beautiful, Banished from the herd he led,
"How fared you when you mortal were? What did you see on my peopled star?" "Oh well enough," I answered her, "It went for me where mortals are!
A Song of Honour
I climbed a hill as light fell short, And rooks came home in scramble sort, And filled the trees and flapped and fought
Eve, with her basket, was Deep in the bells and grass, Wading in bells and grass Up to her knees,
I saw with open eyes Singing birds sweet Sold in the shops For people to eat,
The world's gone forward to its latest fair And dropt an old man done with by the way, To sit alone among the bats and stare
Reason has Moons
Reason has moons, but moons not hers, Lie mirror'd on the sea, Confounding her astronomers, But O! delighting me.
Not baser than his own homekeeping kind Whose journeyman he is - Blind sons and breastless daughters of the blind
The book was dull, its pictures As leaden as its lore, But one glad, happy picture Made up for all and more:
He came and took me by the hand Up to a red rose tree, He kept His meaning to Himself
He begged and shuffled on; Sometimes he stopped to throw A bit and benison To sparrows in the snow,
Comments about Ralph Hodgson
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Gypsy Girl
'Come, try your skill, kind gentlemen,
A penny for three tries!'
Some threw and lost, some threw and won
A ten-a-penny prize.
She was a tawny gypsy girl,
A girl of twenty years,
I liked her for the lumps of gold
That jingled from her ears;
I liked the flaring yellow scarf
Bound loose about her throat,
I liked her showy purple gown
And flashy velvet coat.
A man came up, too loose of tongue,
And said no good to her;
She did not blush as Saxons do,
Or turn upon the cur;
She fawned and whined, 'Sweet gentleman,