Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON HEARING A.W.P.G. PLAY ONE OF RACHMANINOFF'S PRELUDES, by ARTHUR GLYN PRYS-JONES


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON HEARING A.W.P.G. PLAY ONE OF RACHMANINOFF'S PRELUDES, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Frenzied hands at the coffin-lid
Last Line: That he died in his grave instead of his bed?)
Subject(s): Death; Graves; Wales; Dead, The; Tombs; Tombstones; Welshmen; Welshwomen


FRENZIED hands at the coffin-lid
Under the yew-tree deeply hid:
(Will never the sexton come to hark
To the tearing sign and the oaken bark!)

Is God in Heaven or down in Hell
That He cannot pull at the passing-bell?
(Is the sexton drunk or fast asleep
That he cannot see the new turf creep?)

Rend, wood, rend; rip, nails, rip—
You hold too fast in your iron grip:
(Will only the dead awake in the gloom
To mock at the moan of his sounding tomb?)

Faster, louder, tooth and claw,
Battering hands and champing jaw:
(Is the parson dead in the parsonage
That he cannot hear the yew-tree rage?)

Fitful breathing—muffled, thick,
Curses, prayers that follow quick—
(God—send someone down the street
To hear the drums of the churchyard beat!)

Palsied hands at the coffin-lid
Under the yew-tree deeply hid—
(What does it matter—now he's dead
That he died in his grave instead of his bed?)





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