Meditation on the A30 poem – John Betjeman poems
A man on his own in a car Is revenging himself on his wife; He open the throttle and bubbles with dottle and puffs at his pitiful life She’s losing her looks very fast, she loses her temper all day; that lorry won’t let me get past, this Mini is blocking my way. […]
Loneliness poem – John Betjeman poems
The last year’s leaves are on the beech: The twigs are black; the cold is dry; To deeps byond the deepest reach The Easter bells enlarge the sky. O ordered metal clatter-clang! Is yours the song the angels sang? You fill my heart with joy and grief – Belief! Belief! And unbelief… And, though […]
Ireland With Emily poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Bells are booming down the bohreens, White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maureens Move between the fields to Mass. Twisted trees of small green apple Guard the decent whitewashed chapel, Gilded gates and doorway grained, Pointed windows richly stained With many-coloured Munich glass. See the black-shawled congregations On […]
Inexpensive Progress poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Encase your legs in nylons, Bestride your hills with pylons O age without a soul; Away with gentle willows And all the elmy billows That through your valleys roll. Let’s say goodbye to hedges And roads with grassy edges And winding country lanes; Let all things travel faster Where motor car is master […]
In Westminster Abbey poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Let me take this other glove off As the vox humana swells, And the beauteous fields of Eden Bask beneath the Abbey bells. Here, where England’s statesmen lie, Listen to a lady’s cry. Gracious Lord, oh bomb the Germans, Spare their women for Thy Sake, And if that is not too easy We […]
How To Get On In Society poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Phone for the fish knives, Norman As cook is a little unnerved; You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes And I must have things daintily served. Are the requisites all in the toilet? The frills round the cutlets can wait Till the girl has replenished the cruets And switched on the logs in the […]
Harrow-on-the-Hill poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
When melancholy Autumn comes to Wembley And electric trains are lighted after tea The poplars near the stadium are trembly With their tap and tap and whispering to me, Like the sound of little breakers Spreading out along the surf-line When the estuary’s filling With the sea. Then Harrow-on-the-Hill’s a rocky island And […]
Guilt poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The clock is frozen in the tower, The thickening fog with sooty smell Has blanketed the motor power Which turns the London streets to hell; And footsteps with their lonely sound Intensify the silence round. I haven’t hope. I haven’t faith. I live two lives and sometimes three. The lives I live make […]
Felixstowe, or The Last of Her Order poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash and the next wave mingle, A mounting arch of water weedy-brown Against the tide the off-shore breezes blow. Oh wind and water, this is Felixstowe. In winter when the sea winds chill and […]
Executive poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner; I have a Slimline brief-case and I use the firm’s Cortina. In every roadside hostelry from here to Burgess Hill The ma?tres d’h?tel all know me well, and let me sign the bill. You ask me what it is I do. Well, […]
Dilton Marsh Halt poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Was it worth keeping the Halt open, We thought as we looked at the sky Red through the spread of the cedar-tree, With the evening train gone by? Yes, we said, for in summer the anglers use it, Two and sometimes three Will bring their catches of rods and poles and perches To […]
Diary of a Church Mouse poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Here among long-discarded cassocks, Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks, Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books. Lean and alone I spend my days Behind this Church of England baize. I share my dark forgotten room With two oil-lamps and half a broom. The cleaner never bothers me, So […]
Devonshire Street W.1 poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet. The sun still shines on this eighteenth-century scene With Edwardian faience adornment — Devonshire Street. No hope. And the X-ray photographs under his arm Confirm the message. His wife stands timidly by. The opposite brick-built house looks […]
Death In Leamington poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev’ning star That shone through the plate glass window From over Leamington Spa Beside her the lonely crochet Lay patiently and unstirred, But the fingers that would have work’d it Were dead as the spoken word. And Nurse came in with […]
Dawlish poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Bird-watching colonels on the old sea wall, Down here at Dawlish where the slow trains crawl: Low tide lifting, on a shingle shore, Long-sunk islands from the sea once more: Red cliffs rising where the wet sands run, Gulls reflecting in the sharp spring sun; Pink-washed plaster by a sheltered patch, Ilex shadows upon […]
Cornish Cliffs poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Those moments, tasted once and never done, Of long surf breaking in the mid-day sun. A far-off blow-hole booming like a gun- The seagulls plane and circle out of sight Below this thirsty, thrift-encrusted height, The veined sea-campion buds burst into white And gorse turns tawny orange, seen beside Pale drifts of […]
Christmas poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green. TThe bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across […]
Business Girls poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
From the geyser ventilators Autumn winds are blowing down On a thousand business women Having baths in Camden Town Waste pipes chuckle into runnels, Steam’s escaping here and there, Morning trains through Camden cutting Shake the Crescent and the Square. Early nip of changeful autumn, Dahlias glimpsed through garden doors, At the […]
Back From Australia poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Cocooned in Time, at this inhuman height, The packaged food tastes neutrally of clay, We never seem to catch the running day But travel on in everlasting night With all the chic accoutrements of flight: Lotions and essences in neat array And yet another plastic cup and tray. “Thank you so much. Oh no, […]
An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges Look down on ravines. The vision can travel From gable to gable, Italianate mansion And turretted stable, A sylvan expansion So varied and jolly Where laurel and holly Commingle their greens. Serene on a […]
A Subaltern’s Love Song poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Furnish’d and burnish’d by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament; you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your […]
A Shropshire Lad poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The gas was on in the Institute, The flare was up in the gym, A man was running a mineral line, A lass was singing a hymn, When Captain Webb the Dawley man, Captain Webb from Dawley, Came swimming along the old canal That carried the bricks to Lawley. Swimming along – Swimming along […]
A Bay In Anglesey poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
The sleepy sound of a tea-time tide Slaps at the rocks the sun has dried, Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift Round low peninsulas pink with thrift. The water, enlarging shells and sand, Grows greener emerald out from land And brown over shadowy shelves below The waving forests of seaweed […]
To – – – – –
Go—you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away. There’s such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay. Oh, if you knew the pensive pleasure That fills my bosom when I sigh, You would not rob me of a treasure Monarchs are too poor to buy. […]
Yes, ’tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain!
Yes, ’tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain! I wake, I breathe, and am myself again. Still in this nether world; no seraph yet! Nor walks my spirit, when the sun is set, With troubled step to haunt the fatal board, Where I died last—by poison or the sword; Blanching each honest cheek […]
Sonnet to Italy by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
For thee, Ansonia! Nature’s bounteous hand, Luxuriant spreads around her blooming stores; Profusion laughs o’er all the glowing land, And softest breezes from thy myrtle-shores. Yet though for thee, unclouded suns diffuse Their genial radiance o’er thy blushing plains; Though in thy fragrant groves the sportive muse Delights to pour her wild, enchanted strains; Though […]
Ode to Superstition
[lwptoc] ODE TO SUPERSTITION.[1] I. 1. Hence, to the realms of Night, dire Demon, hence! Thy chain of adamant can bind That little world, the human mind, And sink its noblest powers to impotence. Wake the lion’s loudest roar, Clot his shaggy mane with gore, With flashing fury bid his eye-balls shine; Meek is his […]
An Epistle to A Friend
AN EPISTLE TO A FRIEND. Villula,……….et pauper agelle, Me tibi, et hos unâ mecum, et quos semper amavi, Commendo. PREFACE. Every reader turns with pleasure to those passages of Horace, and Pope, and Boileau, which describe how they lived and where they dwelt; and which, being interspersed among their satirical writings, derive a secret and […]
The Pleasures of Memory
Twilight’s soft dews steal o’er the village-green, With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Still’d is the hum that thro’ the hamlet broke, When round the ruins of their antient oak The peasants flock’d to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols clos’d the busy day. Her wheel at rest, the matron thrills no […]
Oh could my Mind
Oh could my Mind, unfolded in my page, Enlighten climes and mould a future age; There as it glow’d, with noblest frenzy fraught, Dispense the treasures of exalted thought; To Virtue wake the pulses of the heart, And bid the tear of emulation start! Oh could it still, thro’ each succeeding year, My life, my […]
Winter – The Fourth Pastoral, or Daphne poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Lycidas. Thyrsis, the music of that murm’ring spring, Is not so mournful as the strains you sing. Nor rivers winding thro’ the vales below, So sweetly warble, or so smoothly flow. Now sleeping flocks on their soft fleeces […]
Vertumnus and Pomona : Ovid’s Metamorphoses, book 14 [v. 623-771] poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period The fair Pomona flourish’d in his reign; Of all the Virgins of the sylvan train, None taught the trees a nobler race to bear, Or more improv’d the vegetable care. To her the shady grove, the flow’ry field, […]
Verses Left by Mr. Pope poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period With no poetic ardour fir’d I press the bed where Wilmot lay; That here he lov’d, or here expir’d, Begets no numbers grave or gay. Beneath thy roof, Argyle, are bred Such thoughts as prompt the brave to […]
Translation of a Prayer of Brutus poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Goddess of woods, tremendous in the chase, To mountain wolves and all the savage race, Wide o’er the aerial vault extend thy sway, And o’er the infernal regions void of day. On thy third reign look down; disclose […]
To the Author of a Poem Entitled Succession poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Begone, ye Critics, and restrain your spite, Codrus writes on, and will for ever write, The heaviest Muse the swiftest course has gone, As clocks run fastest when most lead is on; What tho’ no bees around your […]
To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Oh be thou blest with all that Heav’n can send, Long Health, long Youth, long Pleasure, and a Friend: Not with those Toys the female world admire, Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire. With added years if […]
To Mr. Thomas Southern, on his Birth-Day poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Resign’d to live, prepar’d to die, With not one sin, but poetry, This day Tom’s fair account has run (Without a blot) to eighty-one. Kind Boyle, before his poet, lays A table, with a cloth of bays; And […]
To Lady Mary Wortley Montagu poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period I. In beauty, or wit, No mortal as yet To question your empire has dared: But men of discerning Have thought that in learning To yield to a lady was hard. II. Impertinent schools, With musty dull rules, […]
The Three Gentle Shepherds poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period Of gentle Philips will I ever sing, With gentle Philips shall the valleys ring. My numbers too for ever will I vary, With gentle Budgell and with gentle Carey. Or if in ranging of the names I judge […]
The Temple of Fame poem – Alexander Pope
A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744) , the greatest English poet of “Augustan” or Georgian period In that soft season, when descending show’rs Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow’rs; When op’ning buds salute the welcome day, And earth relenting feels the genial day, As balmy sleep had charm’d my cares to […]