Tag Archives: O Where Are You Going?

“O Where Are You Going?” by W. H. Auden

“O where are you going?” said reader to rider,
“That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Yonder’s the midden whose odors will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return.”

“O do you imagine,” said fearer to farer,
“That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?”

“O what was that bird,” said horror to hearer,
“Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease?”

“Out of this house” ‚ said rider to reader,
“Yours never will” ‚ said farer to fearer,
“They’re looking for you” ‚ said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

 

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Photo credit: By Wikiprofile – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=55718023

“That gap is the grave where the tall return.”

“O Where Are You Going?” by W. H. Auden

“O where are you going?” said reader to rider,
“That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Yonder’s the midden whose odors will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return.”

“O do you imagine,” said fearer to farer,
“That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?”

“O what was that bird,” said horror to hearer,
“Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease?”

“Out of this house” ‚ said rider to reader,
“Yours never will” ‚ said farer to fearer,
“They’re looking for you” ‚ said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

 

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MIDNIGHT AUDEN MAKES A BIRTHDAY PERFECT.

Ringin’ it in with the best of the Brits:

“O Where Are You Going,” by W.H. Auden

“O where are you going?” said reader to rider,

“That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Yonder’s the midden whose odors will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return.”

“O do you imagine,” said fearer to farer,
“That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?”

“O what was that bird,” said horror to hearer,
“Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease?”

“Out of this house” ‚ said rider to reader,
“Yours never will” ‚ said farer to fearer,
“They’re looking for you” ‚ said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

“That gap is the grave where the tall return.” (W.H. Auden does Ray Bradbury.)

Auden would have made a fine horror writer.  He would have.

Enjoy the frightening imagery of “O Where Are You Going?”

I am not sure, but I believe that this is part of a set of poems entitled “The Adventurers?”

 

O Where Are You Going?

“O where are you going?” said reader to rider, 
“That valley is fatal when furnaces burn, 
Yonder’s the midden whose odors will madden, 
That gap is the grave where the tall return.” 

“O do you imagine,” said fearer to farer, 
“That dusk will delay on your path to the pass, 
Your diligent looking discover the lacking 
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?” 

“O what was that bird,” said horror to hearer, 
“Did you see that shape in the twisted trees? 
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly, 
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease?” 

“Out of this house” ‚ said rider to reader, 
“Yours never will” ‚ said farer to fearer, 
“They’re looking for you” ‚ said hearer to horror, 
As he left them there, as he left them there.

 

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