I Have Been Through The Gates
by: Charlotte Mew (1869 - 1928)
His heart to me, was a place of palaces
And pinnacles and shining towers;
I saw it then as we see things in dreams,
I do not remember how long I slept;
I remember the tress, and the high, white walls,
And how the sun was always on the towers;
The walls are standing to-day, and the gates;
I have been through the gates, I have groped,
I have crept back, back.
There is dust in the streets, and blood;
They are empty; darkness is over them;
His heart is a place with the lights gone out,
Forsaken by great winds and the heavenly rain,
Unclean and unswept,
Like the heart of the holy city,
Old blind, beautiful Jerusalem;
Over which Christ wept
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Farewell, A
Quoi Bon Dire, A
Absence
From A Window
I So Liked Spring
In The Fields
On The Road To The Sea
Sea Love
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