Poetry for Lent Nos 16 – 20

Lenten Poetry Challenge


Monday Lent Poem 20 

Self Pity

D.H. Lawrence 1929

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

Sunday Lent Poem 19


W.E. Henley 1875

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
 Saturday Lent Poem 18
A Word

Emily Dickinson  1924

A word is dead
When it is said
Some say

I say it just
begins to live
that day

Saturday Lent Poem 17    


A Word (x2)

Emily Dickinson 1924

A Word dropped careless on a Page
May stimulate an eye
When folded in perpetual seam
The Wrinkled Maker lie

Infection in the sentence breeds
We may inhale Despair
At distances of Centuries
From the Malaria —


Friday Lent Poem 16


Christmas 1924

Thomas Hardy

‘Peace upon earth’ was said, we sing it,
and pay a million priests to bring it.
After two thousand years of mass
We’ve got as far as poison gas.


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