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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509009" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ghosts In England</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At East Lulworth the dead were friendly and pitiful, I saw them<br>peek from their ancient earthworks on the coast hills<br>At the camps of the living men in the valley, the army-mechanics'<br>barracks, the roads where they try the tanks<br>And the armored cars: 'We also,' they say, 'trembled in our<br>time. We felt the world change in the rain,<br>Our people like yours were falling under the wheel. Great<br>past and declining present are a pitiful burden<br>For living men; but failure is not the worm that worries<br>the dead, you will not weep when you come,'<br>Said the soft mournful shadows on the Dorset shore. And those<br>on the Rollright ridge by the time-eaten stone-circle<br>Said nothing and had no wish in the world, having blessedly aged<br>out of humanity, stared with great eyes<br>White as the hollowed limestone, not caring but seeing, inhuman<br>as the wind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But the other ghosts were not good,<br>But like a moon of jackals around a sick stag.<br>At Zennor in the tumbled granite chaos, at Marazion and the<br>angel's Mount, from the hoar tide-lines:<br>'Be patient, dead men, the tides of their day have turned,' from<br>the stone rings of the dead huts on Dartmoor,<br>The prison town like a stain of dirt on the distant hill: 'We not<br>the last,' they said, 'shall be hopeless,<br>We not alone hunger in the rain.' From Avebury in the high<br>heart of England, in the ancient temple,<br>When all the cottages darkened themselves to sleep: 'Send it<br>along the ridge-ways and say it on the hilltops<br>That the bone is broken and the meat will fall.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was also a<br>ghost of a king, his cheeks hollow as the brows<br>Of an old horse, was paddling his hands in the reeds of Dozmare<br>Pool, in the shallow, in the rainy twilight,<br>Feeling for the hilt of a ruinous and rusted sword. But they said<br>'Be patient a little, you king of shadows,<br>But only wait, they will waste like snow.' Then Arthur left<br>hunting for the lost sword, he grinned and stood up<br>Gaunt as a wolf; but soon resumed the old labor, shaking the<br>reeds with his hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Northeastward to Wantage<br>On the chalk downs the Saxon Alfred<br>Witlessly walks with his hands lamenting. 'Who are the people<br>and who are the enemy?' He says bewildered,<br>'Who are the living, who are the dead?' The more ancient dead<br>Watch him from the wide earthworks on White Horse Hill,<br>peer from the Ridgeway barrows, goggle from the broken<br>Mound and the scattered stones in the oval wood above Ashbury.<br>They whisper and exult.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the north also<br>I saw them, from the Picts' houses in the black Caithness heather<br>to the bleak stones on Culloden Moor,<br>The rags of lost races and beaten clans, nudging each other, the<br>blue lips cracking with joy, the fleshless<br>Anticipatory fingers jabbing at the south. And on the Welsh<br>borders<br>Were dead men skipping and fleering behind all the hedges. An<br>island of ghosts. They seemed merry, and to feel<br>No pity for the great pillar of empire settling to a fall, the pride<br>and the power slowly dissolving.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robinson+Jeffers">Robinson Jeffers</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509009" data-title="Ghosts In England de Robinson Jeffers" data-description="At East Lulworth the dead were friendly and pitiful, I saw them peek from their ancient earthworks on the coast hills At the camps of the living men in the valley, the army-mechanics' barracks, the roads where they try the tanks And the armored ca..."></div> </div> </div>
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