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Chesterton

Chesterton

The Skeleton

Chattering finch and water-fly
Are not merrier than I;
Here among the flowers I lie
Laughing everlastingly.
No; I may not tell the best;
Surely, friends, I might have guessed
Death was but the good King’s jest,
It was hid so carefully.

#EnglishWriters

Autres oeuvres par Chesterton...
A Christmas Song for Three Guilds

THE CARPENTERS St. Joseph to the Carpenters said… “The master shall have patience an… And your word unto your women shal… For the sake of me, your master, w…
Ballad of the Sun

O well for him that loves the sun That sees the heaven-race ridden o… The splashing seas of sunset won, And shouts for victory. God made the sun to crown his head…
To Hilaire Belloc

For every tiny town or place God made the stars especially; Babies look up with owlish face And see them tangled in a tree; You saw a moon from Sussex Downs,
Americanisation

Britannia needs no Boulevards, No spaces wide and gay: Her march was through the crooked… Along the narrow way. Nor looks she where, New York’s s…
To St. Michael in Time of Peace

Michael, Michael: Michael of the… Michael of the Army of the Lord, Stiffen thou the hand upon the sti… Folded and shut upon the sheathed… Under the fullness of the white ro…
A Word

A word came forth in Galilee, a w… It climbed and rang and blessed an… A word of sudden secret hope, of t… Of wrath and pity fused in fire, a… A star that o’er the citied world…
Translation From Du Bellay

Happy, who like Ulysses or that l… Who raped the fleece, returning fu… With usage and the world’s wide re… With his own kin can wait the end… When shall I see, when shall I se…
A Broad Minded Bishop Rebukes the Verminous St. Francis

If Brother Francis pardoned Brot… There still seems need of such str… Seeing he is, for all his gay good… Bitten by funny little creatures s…
A Marriage Song

Why should we reck of hours that r… While we two ride together? The heavens rent from end to end Would be but windy weather, The strong stars shaken down in sp…
 1
The Last Hero

The wind blew out from Bergen fro… There was a wreck of trees and fal… And drifted like a livid leaf I g… Spewed out of house and stable, be… The heavens are bowed about my hea…
The Praise of Dust

“What of vile dust?” the preacher… Methought the whole world woke, The dead stone lived beneath my fo… And my whole body spoke. “You, that play tyrant to the dust…
A BALLADE OF THE FIRST RAIN

The sky is blue with summer and th… The woods are brown as autumn with… It might as well be Tropics and b… I might as well be born a copper… I fashion me an oriental fan
A Second Childhood

When all my days are ending And I have no song to sing, I think that I shall not be too o… To stare at everything; As I stared once at a nursery doo…
 2
A Christmas Carol

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s la… His hair was like a light. (O weary, weary were the world, But here is all aright.) The Christ-child lay on Mary’s br…
Three Dedications: to Hilaire Belloc

For every tiny town or place God made the stars especially; Babies look up with owlish face And see them tangled in a tree: You saw a moon from Sussex Downs,



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