(The Fantasia of a Fallen Gentleman on a Cold, Bitter Night)
Once in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In a flash of gold heels on the pavement.
Now see I
That warmth's the very stuff of poesy.
Oh God, make small
The old star-eaten blanket of the sky,
That I may fold it round me, and in comfort lie.
T.E.Hulme (1883-1917)
I really liked reading "The Embankment," and discovery of a new poet.
ReplyDeleteHello Princess Haiku, I trust you have more luck in finding more by T.E.Hume than I have. So far, only this:
ReplyDeleteAutumn - T. E. Hume
A touch of cold in the Autumn night
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over the hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.
Immediately after I posted The Embankment, I posted Yeat's The Second Coming. Minx commented, and in her comment, she included Yeats' "He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven", one of my very favourite poems, a small thing of great beauty. (and which, erroneously, I thought I'd previously posted).
When I read this poem, found in a raggedy book, discarded, unloved, in a charity shop, rescued by me to love and a warm bookshelf (for 25 pence), I saw in that verse;-
'O God make small
The old star-eaten blanket of the sky', Yeats' cloths of Heaven echoed. Serendipitous.