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In Piccadi: Poem by Isaac Rosenberg

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Lamp-lit faces, to you
What is your starry dew ?
Gold flowers of the night blue !

Deep in wet pavement's slime
Mud-rooted is your fierce prime,
To bloom in lust's coloured clime.

The sheen of eyes that lust,
Which dew-time made your trust,
Lights your passionless dust.

Analysis of this poem

More verses by Isaac Rosenberg

  • The Nun
  • The One Lost
  • Hearts First Word. I.
  • Isolation : A Fragment
  • My Days

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