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Poem by Francis Thompson


A Question


O bird with heart of wassail,
That toss the Bacchic branch,
And slip your shaken music,
An elfin avalanche;

Come tell me, O tell me,
My poet of the blue!
What's YOUR thought of me, Sweet?--
Here's MY thought of you.

A small thing, a wee thing,
A brown fleck of nought;
With winging and singing
That who could have thought?

A small thing, a wee thing,
A brown amaze withal,
That fly a pitch more azure
Because you're so small.

Bird, I'm a small thing--
My angel descries;
With winging and singing
That who could surmise?

Ah, small things, ah, wee things,
Are the poets all,
Whose tour's the more azure
Because they're so small.

The angels hang watching
The tiny men-things:-
'The dear speck of flesh, see,
With such daring wings!

'Come, tell us, O tell us,
Thou strange mortality!
What's THY thought of us, Dear?--
Here's OUR thought of thee.'

'Alack! you tall angels,
I can't think so high!
I can't think what it feels like
Not to be I.'

Come tell me, O tell me,
My poet of the blue!
What's YOUR thought of me, Sweet?--
Here's MY thought of you. 



                      Francis Thompson


Francis Thompson's other poems:
  1. A Carrier Song
  2. To A Poet Breaking Silence
  3. After Her Going
  4. A Girl's Sin - In Her Eyes
  5. Gilded Gold


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Alfred Austin A Question ("Love, wilt thou love me still when wintry streak")
  • Isaac Rosenberg A Question ("What if you shut your eyes and look")
  • Dinah Craik A Question ("SOUL, spirit, genius--which thou art--that whence")

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