A Winter’s Tale (Dylan Thomas Poems)
It is a winter's taleThat the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakesAnd floating fields from the farm in the ...
It is a winter's taleThat the snow blind twilight ferries over the lakesAnd floating fields from the farm in the ...
Through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry,Under the conceiving moon, on the high chalk hill,And there this night ...
Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house The gentleman lay graveward with his furies; Abaddon in the hangnail cracked from ...
IOnce below a time,When my pinned-around-the-spiritCut-to-measure flesh bit,Suit for a serial sumOn the first of each hardship,My paid-for slaved-for own ...
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down,Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of hairs,Love in her gear ...
It is the sinners' dust-tongued bell claps me to churchesWhen, with his torch and hourglass, like a sulpher priest,His beast ...
Then was my neophyte,Child in white blood bent on its kneesUnder the bell of rocks,Ducked in the twelve, disciple seasThe ...
When once the twilight locks no longerLocked in the long worm of my fingerNor damned the sea that sped about ...
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month,Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill,As the green blooms ride ...
A grief ago,She who was who I hold, the fats and the flower,Or, water-lammed, from the scythe-sided thorn,Hell wind and ...
Grief thief of time crawls off,The moon-drawn grave, with the seafaring years,The knave of pain steals offThe sea-halved faith that ...
When I woke, the town spoke.Birds and clocks and cross bellsDinned aside the coiling crowd,The reptile profligates in a flame,Spoilers ...
OOut of a bed of loveWhen that immortal hospital made one more moove to sootheThe curless counted body,And ruin and ...
When once the twilight locks no longer Locked in the long worm of my finger Nor damned the sea that ...
Then was my neophyte, Child in white blood bent on its knees Under the bell of rocks, Ducked in the ...
Hold hard, these ancient minutes in the cuckoo's month, Under the lank, fourth folly on Glamorgan's hill, As the green ...
When, like a running grave, time tracks you down, Your calm and cuddled is a scythe of hairs, Love in ...
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs About the lilting house and happy as the grass ...
One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound ...
If I were tickled by the rub of love, A rooking girl who stole me for her side, Broke through ...
Was there a time when dancers with their fiddles In children's circuses could stay their troubles? There was a time ...
When I was a windy boy and a bit And the black spit of the chapel fold, (Sighed the old ...
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees ...
O Out of a bed of love When that immortal hospital made one more moove to soothe The curless counted ...
From love's first fever to her plague, from the soft second And to the hollow minute of the womb, From ...
The bows glided down, and the coast Blackened with birds took a last look At his thrashing hair and whale-blue ...
I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain, Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper's eye, Shifting to ...
Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon, Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone, But strip the ...
Should lanterns shine, the holy face, Caught in an octagon of unaccustomed light, Would wither up, an any boy of ...
To-day, this insect, and the world I breathe, Now that my symbols have outelbowed space, Time at the city spectacles, ...
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