Poets Archive: Ewart Alan Mackintosh

Courage born of Fire and Steel, Thee I invoke, thee I desire Who constant holdst the hearts that reel Beneath the steel, beneath the fire. Though in my mind no torment is. Yet in my being’s hazard mesh There run such threads of cowardice That I must dread my untrue flesh. Therefore possess me and  Continue Reading »

All my songs are risen and fled away; (Only the brave birds stay); All my beautiful songs are broken or fled. My poor songs could not stay Among the filth and the weariness and the dead. There was bloody grime on their light, white feathery wings, (Hear how the lark still sings), And their eyes  Continue Reading »

The search-light swords Stab the sky Miles back, Light taut cords Of gold, high Against the black. A star-flare Of showering red Surprises night, And hangs in air, Painting the dead With ruddy light. The pale wax Of their faces Turns to blood By dim tracks In dark places Of the wood. Where I go  Continue Reading »

Dark with uncertainty of doubtful doom The future looms across the path we tread; Yet, undismayed we gaze athwart the gloom, Prophetically tinged with hectic red. The mutterings of conflict, sullen, deep, Surge over homes where hopeless tears are shed, And ravens their ill-omened vigils keep O’er legions dead. But louder, deeper, fiercer still shall  Continue Reading »

Tempest of iron prepared the advance of a host ‘gainst a remnant; Tempest of shouting announced the advance of that host overwhelming, And as the black rocks o’erwhelmed but unvanquished make stand ‘gainst the ocean, So did that glorious remnant make stand ‘gainst that host overwhelming, Till the war pride and war lust of that  Continue Reading »

Trenches of Flanders That guard Calais. Rain sodden, blood sodden, Shot swept, and shell trodden. Trenches of Flanders That bar the way.

They who, their cartridges spent, cut up, surrounded and beat Fight back at fate till the end, scorning both death and defeat; Who, though they know in their hearts that resistance is vain, Stand to the ground that they hold for their duty is plain. Who, at the end when the foe bid them surrender  Continue Reading »

Down the close darkening lanes they sang their way To the siding-shed, And lined the train with faces grimly gay. Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray As men’s are, dead. Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp Stood staring hard, Sorry to miss them from the upland camp. Then, unmoved,  Continue Reading »

This is the tale of Four Stout Men Who mounted their stark steeds there and then And rode to Heilly o’er moor & fen, Clanrobert, Cuchulain and Curgenven (Not to mention Gaukrodger)–remarkable men. And the number of things they didn’t discuss From Aristotle’s De Partibus To Marie Corelli and even wuss Dalhousie, Defoe and Decius  Continue Reading »

If I die to-morrow I shall go happily. With the flush of battle on my face I shall walk with an eager pace The road I cannot see. My life burnt fiercely always, And fiercely will go out With glad wild fighting ringed around. But you will be above the ground And darkness all about.  Continue Reading »

Here sorrow has no beauty, death no greatness. Where the dumb fields from Heaven to Heaven run In a dull poverty of desolateness Under a blind sky, and the rain is spun In a grey web that long has slain the sun. To go down reeling in a wild endeavour. Or take unvanquished in a  Continue Reading »

O sweet blue eve that seems so loath to die, Trailing the sunset glory into night, Within the soft, cool strangeness of thy light, My heart doth seem to find its sanctuary. The day doth verge with all its secret care, The thrush is lilting vespers on the thorn; In Nature’s inner heart seems to  Continue Reading »

Have you felt the joy that is almost fear As you face the ditch and are two lengths clear, And you hear the thunder of hoofs in rear? There is just a second when you may see Clear out what the consequence will be – If you go too close or take off too far  Continue Reading »

A wall and gulf for ever lie between, Not all that we may do through love or wit Can quite avail to pull away the screen, Nor yet succeed in bridging o’er the pit. He knows the reason, He that ordered it, Who bade us love but never understand. He fixed the barrier as He  Continue Reading »

I love thee as I love the holiest things, Like perfect poetry and angels’ wings, And cleanliness, and sacred motherhood, And all things simple, sweetly pure, and good. I love thee as I love a little child, And calves and kittens, and all things soft and mild: Things that I want to cuddle and to  Continue Reading »