October 14, 2012

  • good poem by Ruth Pitter

    I just ran across a quote from it today in an old Bartlett’s Quotations volume – struck a chord with me, had to find the poem, here it is, reminds me a bit of Listen by Ogden Nash, which I also love:

    “The Lost Tribe

    How long, how long must I regret?
    I never found my people yet;
    I go about, but cannot find
    The blood-relations of the mind

    Through my little sphere I range,
    And though I wither do not change;
    Must not change a jot, lest they
    Should not know me on my way.

    Sometimes I think when I am dead
    They will come about my bed,
    For my people well do know
    When to come and when to go.

    I know not why I am alone,
    Nor where my wandering tribe is gone,
    But be they few, or be they far,
    Would I were where my people are!”

    Ruth Pitter

    And here is “Listen” by Ogden Nash:


    There is a knocking in the skull,
    An endless silent shout
    Of something beating on a wall,
    And crying, “Let me out!”

    That solitary prisoner
    Will never hear reply.
    No comrade in eternity
    Can hear the frantic cry.

    No heart can share the terror
    That haunts his monstrous dark.
    The light that filters through the chinks
    No other eye can mark.

    When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
    And words run warm and full,
    I think that he is loneliest then,
    The captive in the skull.

    Caught in a mesh of living veins,
    In cell of padded bone,
    He loneliest is when he pretends
    That he is not alone.

    We’d free the incarcerate race of man
    That such a doom endures
    Could only you unlock my skull,
    Or I creep into yours.

    Ogden Nash

Comments (2)

  • good poem by Ruth Pitter | shunammite’s Xanga Site
    Sac Longchamp http://www.sergesurpin.net/

  • So other people can see my blog now but not me? I haven’t had a comment in AGES, though many have viewed this poem, so glad. I couldn’t decide whether to subscribe to the changed site. Thanks for the comment Mr. Longchamp.

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