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| First Written | 1969 |
| Genre | Poetry |
| Origin | UK |
| Publisher | Mariner |
| ISBN-10 | 0156027984 |
| My Copy | cheap paperback |
| First Read | June 07, 2013 |
Narrative Poems
Read as part of my 'read Lewis as an adult' project. These are not-very-successful poems, but they've got a solid plotline (narrative poems, after all), and so they're readable.
Noted on June 9, 2013
It came in lecture-time on April morning
- Alas for laws and locks, reproach and praise,
Who ever learned to censor the spring days? - from Dymer
Quoted on June 9, 2013
And the curtains fell
Behind him, and they stood alone, with all to tell,
Not like that Launcelot tangled in the boughs of May
Long since, nor like the Guinever he kissed that day,
But he was pale, with pity in his face write wide,
And she a haggard woman, holding to her side
A pale hand pressed, asking 'What is it?' Slowly then
He came to her and took her by the hand, as men
Take tenderly a daughter's or a mother's hand
To whom they bring bad news she will not understand.
- from Launcelot
Quoted on June 9, 2013
Then came clear laughter jingling in the air like bells
On horses mains, thin merriment of that which dwells
In light and height, unaging and beyond the sense
Of guilt and grieving, merciless with innocence.
- from Launcelot
Quoted on June 9, 2013