Poems by Frances Darwin Cornford

All Poems Original Poems Translations

Autumn Morning at Cambridge

I RAN out in the morning, when the air was clean and new,

And all the grass was glittering and grey with autumn dew,

I ran out to the apple tree and pulled an apple down,

And all the bells were ringing in the old grey town.

Down in the town, off the bridges and the grass

They are sweeping up the leaves to let the people pass,

Sweeping up the old leaves, golden-reds and browns,

Frances Darwin Cornford

The Watch

I WAKENED on my hot, hard bed;

Upon the pillow lay my head;

Beneath the pillow I could hear

My little watch was ticking clear.

I thought the throbbing of it went

Like my continual discontent,

I thought it said in every tick:

I am so sick, so sick, so sick;

Frances Darwin Cornford

Autumn Evening

THE SHADOWS flickering, the daylight dying,

And I upon the old red sofa lying,

The great brown shadows leaping up the wall,

The sparrows twittering; and that is all.

I thought to send my soul to far-off lands,

Where fairies scamper on the windy sands,

Or where the autumn rain comes drumming down

Frances Darwin Cornford

In France

THE poplars in the fields of France

Are golden ladies come to dance ;

But yet to see them there is none

But I and the September sun.

The girl who in their shadow sits

Can only see the sock she knits ;

Her dog is watching all the day

That not a cow shall go astray.

Frances Darwin Cornford

The Ragwort

THE thistles on the sandy flats

Are courtiers with crimson hats ;

The ragworts, growing up so straight,

Are emperors who stand in state,

And march about, so proud and bold,

In crowns of fairy-story gold.

The people passing home at night

Rejoice to see the shining sight,

Frances Darwin Cornford

Rhyme For A Phonetician

Brave English language, you are strong as trees,

Yet intricate and stately. Thus one sees

Through branches clear-embroidered stars. You please

Our sense as damask roses on the breeze,

And barns that smell of hay, and bread-and-cheese.

Rustic yet Roman, yours are dignities

Sonorous as the seas sound. On my knees

I would give thanks for all your words. Yet these

Frances Darwin Cornford

Pre-Existence

I laid me down upon the shore

And dreamed a little space;

I heard the great waves break and roar;

The sun was on my face.

My idle hands and fingers brown

Played with the pebbles grey;

The waves came up, the waves went down,

Most thundering and gay.

Frances Darwin Cornford

A Recollection

MY father's friend came once to tea.

He laughed and talked. He spoke to me.

But in another week they said

That friendly pink-faced man was dead.

' How sad . .' they said, 'the best of men . .'

So I said too, 'How sad '; but then

Deep in my heart I thought with pride,

'I know a person who has died.'

Frances Darwin Cornford

Feri's Dream

I Had a little dog, and my dog was very small;

He licked me in the face, and he answered to my call;

Of all the treasures that were mine, I loved him most of all.

His nose was fresh as morning dew and blacker than the night;

I thought that it could even snuff the shadows and the light;

And his tail he held bravely, like a banner in a fight.

His body covered thick with hair was very good to smell ;

His little stomach underneath was pink as any shell;

Frances Darwin Cornford

On Rupert Brooke

A young Apollo, golden-haired,

Stands dreaming on the verge of strife,

Magnificently unprepared

For the long littleness of life.

Frances Darwin Cornford

To a Lady Seen From the Train

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,

Missing so much and so much?

O fat white woman whom nobody loves,

Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,

When the grass is soft as the breast of doves

And shivering sweet to the touch?

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,

Missing so much and so much?

Frances Darwin Cornford

The Guitarist Tunes Up

With what attentive courtesy he bent

Over his instrument;

Not as a lordly conquerer who could

Command both wire and wood,

But as a man with a loved woman might,

Inquiring with delight

What slight essential things she had to say

Before they started, he and she, to play.

Frances Darwin Cornford