In Piam Memoriam

Poem By Geoffrey Hill


Created purely from glass the saint stands,
Exposing his gifted quite empty hands
Like a conjurer about to begin,
A righteous man begging of righteous men.


In the sun lily-and-gold-coloured,
Filtering the cruder light, he has endured,
A feature for our regard; and will keep;
Of worldly purity the stained archetype.


The scummed pond twitches. The great holly-tree,
Emptied and shut, blows clear of wasting snow,
The common, puddled substance: beneath,
Like a revealed mineral, a new earth.

Comments about In Piam Memoriam

A righteous man begging of righteous men........But righteous men are missing in the world and this poem takes the subject of importance and likes very much.
...A righteous man begging of righteous men... fantastic its lyrical tune. Beautiful and need its beauty to be glorified by readers taste of reading good poetry.
Her Confidence The wind persuades a great cloud to dance before the full moon then a light tap to move it along Little child-clouds dance now as if to please the moon – their mother; she’s beautiful relaxed and content At ease in her night sky no need to rage the daylong detached from the daylight waiting to perform Her evening gown, fitted she begins her waltz to the stage harpers sounding the depth of each step and breath Her untainted sophistication man can never know though they say they do the fools, they will inscribe it The wind will insist the clouds cover their lies.

Rating Card

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Other poems of HILL

September Song

born 19.6.32 - deported 24.9.42

Undesirable you may have been, untouchable
you were not. Not forgotten

In Memory Of Jane Fraser

When snow like sheep lay in the fold
And wind went begging at each door,
And the far hills were blue with cold,
And a cloud shroud lay on the moor,

Requiem For The Plantagenet Kings

For whom the possessed sea littered, on both shores,
Ruinous arms; being fired, and for good,
To sound the constitution of just wards,
Men, in their eloquent fashion, understood.

Picture Of A Nativity

Sea-preserved, heaped with sea-spoils,
Ribs, keels, coral sores,
Detached faces, ephemeral oils,
Discharged on the world’s outer shores,


The strident high
civic trumpeting
of misrule. It is
what we stand for.