Weariness
There is a dear weariness of love . . .
Hand relaxed in hand.
Shoulder at rest upon shoulder.
[ . . . ]
Witter Bynner's poem "Weariness" was published in 1920 in the third Others anthology. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link below:
The Fugitive
In the hush of early even
The clouds came flocking over,
Till the last wind fell from heaven
And no bird cried.
Darkly the clouds were flocking,
Shadows moved and deepened,
Then paused ; the poplar's rocking
Ceased ; the light hung still
Like a painted thing, and deadly.
Then from the cloud's side flickered
Sharp lightning, thrusting madly
At the cowering fields.
Thrice the fierce cloud lighten'd,
Down the hill slow thunder trembled
Day in her cave grew frightened,
Crept away, and died.
John Freeman's poem "The Fugitive" was published in Georgian Poetry, 1918-1919. To read this poem in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link below:
Lincoln
I
Like a gaunt, scraggly pine
Which lifts its head above the mournful sandhills;
And patiently, through dull years of bitter silence,
Untended and uncared for, starts to grow.
Ungainly, labouring, huge,
The wind of the north has twisted and gnarled its branches;
Yet in the heat of midsummer days, when thunder-clouds
ring the horizon,
A nation of men shall rest beneath its shade.
And it shall protect them all,
Hold everyone safe there, watching aloof in silence;
Until at last one mad stray bolt from the zenith
Shall strike it in an instant down to earth.
II
There was a darkness in this man; an immense and hollow
darkness,
Of which we may not speak, nor share with him, nor
enter;
A darkness through which strong roots stretched down
wards into the earth
Towards old things;
[ . . . ]
John Gould Fletcher's poem "Lincoln" was published in the 1917 Some Imagist Poets anthology. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the links below:
Zeppelins: I
The startling thunder bursting from a gun :
How swift runs Fear, quicksilver that is freed !
Now every muscle weakens, every pulse
Is set at gallop-pace, and every nerve
Stretched taut with terror and a mad revolt.
The fear of death, the longing still to live,—
Live in a vain world racked with hundred pains,
[ . . . ]
Iris Tree's poem "Zeppelins: I" was published in the 1916 Wheels anthology. To read this poem in full in a digitized version of this publication, follow the link below: