The Sunlight On the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

. . .


Louis MacNeice

Published in: on September 4, 2012 at 3:07 am  Comments (7)  
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Apples, Roses, Fire, Snow, Medlars, Chestnuts, Tangerine

apple medlar nutJacques le Moyne de Morgues (c. 1533–1588)


Snow

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes –
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands –
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

 

Louis MacNeice (September 1907 – September 1963)

For my mother