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Jaquette Febuary 1914

Febuary 1914

  • magazine : New numbers
  • numero : 11 - 1914
  • date : 01 février 1914
  • catégorie : Culture & arts

Sommaire

  • Bloodybush Edge

    Bloodybush Edge is a remote spot on the border-line between England
    and Scotland, marked by a dumpy obelisk, on which is inscribed an
    old scale of tolls. A rough sandy road runs down across the dark
    moors, into England on the one hand, and into Scotland on the
    other. It is a fine, starry night in early September. Daft Dick, a
    fantastic figure, in appearance half-gamekeeper, halftramp {dressed
    as he is in cast-off clothes of country-gentlemen) swings up the road
    from the Scottish side, singing.

    par Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
  • Sonnet

    Not with vain tears, when we're beyond the sun,
    Well beat on the substantial doors, nor tread
    Those dusty high-roads of the aimless dead
    Plaintive for Earth; but rather turn and run

    par Rupert Brooke
  • A memory

    Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept
    Softly along the dim way to your room,
    And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom,
    And holiness about you as you slept.

    par Rupert Brooke
  • One Day

    To-day I have been happy. All the day
    I held the memory of you, and wove
    Its laughter with the dancing light o' the spray,
    And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,
    And sent you following the white waves of sea,
    And crowned your head with fancies, nothing worth,
    Stray buds from that old dust of misery,
    Being glad with a new foolish quiet mirth.

    par Rupert Brooke
  • Mutuability

    They say there's a high windless world and strange,
    Out of the wash of days and temporal tide,
    Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide,
    Aeterna corpora, subject to no change.

    par Rupert Brooke
  • The olympians

    It is in Crete, a many years ago :
    Under a peak that strained in icy stone
    To thrust an endless gesture at the stars.

    par Lascelles Abercrombie
  • The poet to his mistress

    If I should take
    Less thought of gentleness
    For your dear sake
    Than for the poignant labours that possess
    My blood, then surely by so much were signed
    My shame and loss in the world's recording mind.

    par John Drinkwater
  • Memory

    One told me in the stress of days
    Of ease that memory should bring,
    And so I feared my trodden ways
    For snares against my labouring.

    par John Drinkwater

A propos du magazine

New numbers
New numbers NEW NUMBERS was a poetry journal produced by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson, Rupert Brooke, Lascelles Abercrombie and John Drinkwater in 1914.

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