Lola Ridge

Here you will find the Poem Tidings of poet Lola Ridge

Tidings

(Easter 1916)

Censored lies that mimic truth?
Censored truth as pale as fear?
My heart is like a rousing bell -
And but the dead to hear?

My heart is like a mother bird,
Circling ever higher,
And the nest-tree rimmed about
By a forest fire?

My heart is like a lover foiled
By a broken stair -
They are fighting to-night in Sackville Street,
And I am not there!