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Poem by Louise Imogen Guiney


In a Ruin, after a Thunderstorm


Keep of the Norman, old to flood and cloud!
Thou dost reproach me with thy sunset look,
That in our common menace, I forsook
Hope, the last fear, and stood impartial proud:
Almost, almost, while ether spake aloud,
Death, from the smoking stones, my spirit shook
Into thy hollow as leaves into a brook,
No more than they by heavens assassins cowed.
But now thy thousand-scarrèd steep is flecked
With the calm kisses of the light delayed,
Breathe on me better valour: to subject
My soul to greed of life, and grow afraid
Lest, ere her fights full term, the Architect
See downfall of the stronghold that He made.



Louise Imogen Guiney


Louise Imogen Guiney's other poems:
  1. Writ in my Lord Clarendons History of the Rebellion
  2. A December Walk
  3. On the Pre-Reformation Churches about Oxford
  4. On the Same (continued)
  5. A Last Word on Shelley


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