Quote of the Day
an admirable concern to keep lines open to writing in Ireland, Scotland, Wales and America.
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Caroline Bird's In These Days of Prohibition Shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award
We're delighted to announce that Caroline Bird 's In These Days of Prohibition has been shortlisted for the Ted Hughes Award 2017! read more
Sinead Morrissey's On Balance shortlisted for Pigott Poetry Prize
We're delighted to announce that Sinead Morrissey 's On Balance has been shortlisted for the Pigott Poetry Prize ! read more
Lorna Goodison receives Windham-Campbell Prize for Poetry
We're delighted to announce that Lorna Goodison , the current Poet Laureate of Jamaica, has received the $165,000 (£119,000) Windham-Campbell Literature Prize for Poetry! read more
Sinead Morrissey reads from T S Eliot Prize-winning Parallax at the Royal Festival HallListen
Welcome to Carcanet Press, one of the outstanding independent literary publishers of our time. Now in its fifth decade, Carcanet publishes the most comprehensive and diverse list available of modern and classic poetry in English and in translation, as well as a range of inventive fiction, Lives and Letters and literary criticism.
Poem of the Day
Christs bloody sweate
Fatt soyle, full springe, sweete olive, grape of blisseTaken from 'The Collected Poems of S. Robert Southwell'...
That yeldes, that streames, that powres, that dost distil
Untild, undrawne, unstampde, untouchd of presse
Deare fruit, cleare brooks, fayre oyle, sweete wine at will
Thus Christ unforc'd preventes in shedding bloode
The whippes the thornes the nailes the speare and roode.
He Pelicans he Phenix fate doth prove
Whome flames consume whom streames enforce to die
How burneth bloud howe bleedeth burning love
Can one in flame and streame both bathe and frye
How coulde he joyne a Phenix fyerye paynes
In faynting pelicans still bleeding vaynes
Elias once to prove gods soveraigne powre
By praire procur'd a fier of wondrous force
That blood and wood and water did devoure
Yea stones and dust beyonde all natures course
Such fire is love that fedd with gory bloode
Doth burne no lesse then in the dryest woode
O sacred Fire come shewe thy force on me
That sacrifice to Christe I maye retorne
If withered wood for fuell fittest bee
If stones and dust yf fleshe and blood will burne
I withered am and stonye to all good.
A sacke of dust a masse of fleshe and bloode
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