Primrose
by Patrick Kavanagh
Upon a bank I sat, a child made seer
Of one small primrose flowering in my mind.
Better than wealth it is, I said, to find
One small page of Truth’s manuscript made clear.
I looked at Christ transfigured without fear–
The light was very beautiful and kind,
And where the Holy Ghost in flame had signed
I read it through the lenses of a tear.
And then my sight grew dim, I could not see
The primrose that had lighted me to Heaven,
And there was but the shadow of a tree
Ghostly among the stars. The years that pass
Like tired soldiers nevermore have given
Moments to see wonders in the grass.
End of the poem
15 random poems
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- Song by William Somervile
- A Lovers’ Quarrel by Robert Browning
- Жан Расин – Решенье принято, час перемены пробил
- The Constellations by William Cullen Bryant
- New Year’s Dawn – Broadway by Sara Teasdale
- American Soil by Walter William Safar
- Beautiful Women. by Walt Whitman
- Five Songs – II by W H Auden
- Parody on a Haiku by Issa by Monty Gilmer
- Николай Заболоцкий – Одиссей и Сирены
- On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank poem – A. E. Housman
- Journal Entry poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
- Sonnet 132: Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me by William Shakespeare
- In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
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