I love this poem and MacNeice is a favourite poet. His radio plays and programmes on the BBC should be rebroadcasted. His political attitude remains honest and has stood the test of time.
Sunlight on the Garden
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.
The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying
And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.
Louis MacNeice (1907 – 1963)
The title – The Sunlight on the Garden – this creates an image in the mind and as soon as you have read the poem an association develops. As the…
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penwithlit 