Poetry Thursday: The Night has a Thousand Eyes

Here’s a poem by someone named F.W. Bourdillon, who died — it says here — in 1921 having “written several volumes of verse, but only one memorable poem.” This was the poem in question:

THE NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world died
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
when love is done.

***

That is memorable! But who was FW Bourdillon? Here is a short Wikipedia entry. It looks like he had some interesting events in his life!

Here at All Poetry, we learn this:

Bourdillon’s poetry reflects the Aesthetic Movement’s focus on refined language, meticulous craftsmanship, and the exploration of sensory experiences. His poems frequently depict scenes from nature, classical mythology, and moments of quiet contemplation, often employing traditional forms like sonnets and ballads. This commitment to formal structure and evocative imagery aligns him with other prominent poets of the era such as Algernon Charles Swinburne, William Morris, and Christina Georgina Rossetti.

That’s excellent company to be in! The above may be the poem that’s remembered today, but evidently he actually had quite a lot of poetry published during his lifetime. Here are a few more poems — more at All Poetry if you wish to click through —

***

Christmas Roses

White-faced Winter Roses,
O’er the grave I plant you
Where the dead reposes,
That a soul may haunt you,
And your ghostly whiteness
In the Winter gloom,
Seem some spirit-brightness
Shining from the tomb!

^{Image from Pixabay; a hellebore, or “Christmas rose,” also “Lenten rose.”}

FW Bourdillon may have meant a regular rose, a white rose, perhaps. But when I see “Christmas rose,” I think of hellebores. One of the wild types is pure white, as shown above. Many other colors, including pinks and purples, also pale green, often speckled.

Let’s have one more —

***

On The South Downs

Light falls the rain
        On link and laine,
    After the burning day;
        And the bright scene,
        Blue, gold, and green,
    Is blotted out in gray.

        Not so will part
        The glowing heart
    With sunny hours gone by;
      On cliff and hill
      There lingers still
  A light that cannot die.

      Like a gold crown
      Gorse decks the Down,
  All sapphire lies the sea;
      And incense sweet
      Springs as our feet
  Tread light the thymy lea.

      Fade, vision bright!
      Fall rain, fall night!
  Forget, gray world, thy green!
      For us, nor thee,
      Can all days be
  As though this had not been!