Vol 1: Pebbles on the Beach

Poems in Category: Pebbles on the Beach

A first volume of unpublished poems by Wm. T. Quirk 1918 – 1926.
W T Quirk’s dedication: “Dedicated to…. my father, who first taught me delight in words.”

For an alphabetical list of titles of these poems Click here

A Last Wish

When I will die
Bury me nigh
My mountains high,
Near to the sky
Where breezes sigh.

Bee’s lullaby,
Bird’s ...

A Wet Day

There is rain on the window and rain on the door,
The garden is swimming in yellows and greens;
Whoever ...


Fluttering beside
The dusty hedge,
Beauty espied,
Summer’s pledge.
Settling now –
What are thou?
Silent, unheard,
Insect or bird?...


An open boat upon an open sea;
The sky, a canopy of million stars o’erhead;
The only occupant a broken ...

Death of Mary

The Catholic Mary now draws near her end,
Her end unmourned by England, riven sore
By enmities and strife, for ...

Fallen Tree

O mammoth trunk,
To earth you’ve sunk,
Your roots flung in the air;
Your leafy crown
In weeds brought down...


In the oil-lamp’s mellow light
Fear and fancies crowd in sight,
While outside the waiting night
Draws in eerily!
In ...

Grandfather Clock

Grandfather clock, grandfather clock!
Tick, tock! Tick tock!
Weighing out seconds, and minutes, and hours,
Clipping off time with merciless ...

Hale’s Fire

The cry went echoing wide,
Down the deserted street
In the gray light of dawn
That dread word was ...


A silhouette against the evening sky
He stands pensive and still;
The twilight fades, the breezes sigh
O’er all the ...


Here where the bees are droning
Around the fuchsia bush,
All, all save their intoning
Is wrapped in evening hush....


(Translation from the French of Th. Gautier)

The sky was dark, the earth was white,
And gaily rang the bells;...


(Entered for competition, D.S.S.)

Amid the city’s bustle, haste and noise
In office dark alone I sit, with hands
‘Pon ...


Rosemary, Rosemary,
On the first day I saw thee,
Said I to meself, ‘Go wary
And she’ll be thy Ben-my-Chree!’...


When stars are bright
And lights are low
I hear at night
The undertow.
The distant scream
Of pebbles round...


Oh, the sun, the beauteous sun
When o’er dusky shade hath won,
Colouring where the flowers run,
Ripening the berry....


The oily waters swell and murmur low
In the grey ghostly pallor of the mist
Which in the early morn ...

The Ballamoar

The Ballamoar is a farm of mountain, field and stone,
And there is dwelling happily our widowed aunt alone;
Alone ...

The Primrose

A mossy carpet spread
Beneath the tall trees,
And through the wood a singing stream
Soft gurgles on the way...

The Wolf Rocks

‘Father, there is no moon tonight,
The clouds are scudding swift and black,
Flying on through the stormy night –...

To a Bee

Furry bee, you great brown lump
Wandering from clump to clump
Of flowers and shrubs around the pump
Rusty in ...

To a Nightingale

(from the French of A. de Larmartine)

When thy celestial songs prelude
The stillnesses of summer nights,
Winged songster of ...


Amy with her petal skin and hair of liquid gold
Has come from distant Liverpool to join our little fold,...