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Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Mercedes Webb-Pullman-

Shrove Tuesday - emulated cento, T S Eliot
He disappeared in the dead of winter;
death, in a dark, in a deep, in a dream forever
and said nothing of 'the life after death'
and when the Fool and the Blind Man stole the bread -
the girth of it and the wharf of it and the wall -
from out the house there comes the dullest flutter
frail and sad, with gray bowed head
aggrieving the sapless limbs, the shorn and shaken.
A dog barks; the hammock swings; he lies
no farther advanced than in his ancient furies.
No, it is we, soaring, explore galaxies
with an osculation of yellow light, with a glory like chrysanthemums
lichen-alive, governed in gametosporous colonies
towards the quick-water, wrinkling and rippling
quietly as snow on the bare boughs of bone.
Angels are at the door: admit them, now.
1   W H Auden, In Memory of W B Yeats
3   Ezra Pound, Canto XIII
4   W B Yeats, The Circus Animals' Desertion
5   Gerald Manley Hopkins, The Wreck of the Deutschland
7   D H Lawrence, End of Another Home Holiday
8   John Crowe Ransom, Dead Boy
12  Louis MacNeice, An Ecologue for Christmas
13  Charles Madge, Lusty Juventus
14  Theodore Roethke, The Lost Son
15  R S Thomas, Song for Gwydion
16  Michael Roberts, Assault of Angels

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