A mountainous and mystic brute
No rein can curb, no arrow shoot,
Upon whose domed deformed back
I sweep the planets scorching track.
Old is the elf, and wise, men say,
His hair grows green as ours grows grey;
He mocks the stars with myriad hands.
High as that swinging forest stands.
But though in pigmy wanderings dull
I scour the deserts of his skull,
I never find the face, eyes, teeth.
Lowering or laughing underneath.
I met my foe in an empty dell,
His face in the sun was naked hell.
I thought, ‘One silent, bloody blow.
No priest would curse, no crowd would know.’
Then cowered: a daisy, half concealed,
Watched for the fame of that poor field;
And in that flower and suddenly
Earth opened its one eye on me.
(Gilbert Keith Chesterton)
More Poetry from Gilbert Keith Chesterton:
Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems based on Topics: Man, Faces, Hell, Wisdom & Knowledge, Mind, Thought & Thinking, Fame, Astronomy & Cosmology- The Wild Knight (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)
- The Ballad of St. Barbara (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)
- Lepanto (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)
- The Ballad Of The Battle Of Gibeon (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)
- A Wedding In War-Time (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)
- On the Disastrous Spread of Aestheticism in all Classes (Gilbert Keith Chesterton Poems)