Dylan Thomas Dylan Marlais Thomas was born on October 27, 1914, in Swansea, Wales. When he was around 16 years of age, he began copying his early poems into what would become known as his notebooks—a practice that continued until 1934 and contributed to several of his first collections (beginning with 18 Poems, published in 1934).

In 1931, at the age of 16, Thomas left school to become a junior reporter at the South Wales Daily Post. His position with the Post didn't last long, though, as he quit in December 1932 and turned his attention away from journalism and back to poetry, now a full-time pursuit. Remarkably, about two-thirds of Thomas's oeuvre is from his late teens.

Thomas soon found success: His poem "And Death Shall Have No Dominion" was published in 1933 in the New English Weekly, marking his first international publication. The event sent Thomas to England in the summer of 1933 to meet with editors of various English literary magazines. (He would move to London for 10 years shortly thereafter.)

The following year, Dylan Thomas saw his work appear for the first time in book form: "Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines" was published as an entry in The Year's Poetry in the spring of 1934, and his first collection, 18 Poems, was published that December. His first published efforts brought Thomas critical praise and honors, including the 1934 Poet's Corner Prize. 18 Poems drew heavily from the notebooks of collected poems that Thomas wrote as a youth, and it would set off a string of notebook-inspired works such as Twenty Five Poems (1936), The Map of Love(1939) and Deaths and Entrances (1946). Also notable of this period was that it marked the beginning of the poet's lifelong struggle with alcohol abuse.

“Dylan Thomas.” Biography.com, A&E Networks Television, 1 Dec. 2014,

www.biography.com/people/dylan-thomas-9505719.

Dylan Thomas Do No Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on that sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London

Never until the mankind making Bird beast and flower Fathering and all humbling darkness Tells with silence the last light breaking And the still hour Is come of the sea tumbling in harness And I must enter again the round Zion of the water bead And the synagogue of the ear of corn Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound Or sow my salt seed In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn The majesty and burning of the child's death. I shall not murder The mankind of her going with a grave truth Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath With any further Elegy of innocence and youth. Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter, Robed in the long friends, The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother, Secret by the unmourning water Of the riding Thames. After the first death, there is no other.

Dylan Thomas Find Meat on Bones

'Find meat on bones that soon have none, And drink in the two milked crags, The merriest marrow and the dregs Before the ladies' breasts are hags And the limbs are torn. Disturb no winding-sheets, my son, But when the ladies are cold as stone Then hang a ram rose over the rags. 'Rebel against the binding moon And the parliament of sky, The kingcrafts of the wicked sea, Autocracy of night and day, Dictatorship of sun. Rebel against the flesh and bone, The word of the blood, the wily skin, And the maggot no man can slay.' 'The thirst is quenched, the hunger gone, And my heart is cracked across; My face is haggard in the glass, My lips are withered with a kiss, My breasts are thin. A merry girl took me for man, I laid her down and told her sin, And put beside her a ram rose. 'The maggot that no man can kill And the man no rope can hang Rebel against my father's dream That out of a bower of red swine Howls the foul fiend to heel. I cannot murder, like a fool, Season and sunshine, grace and girl, Nor can I smother the sweet waking.' Black night still ministers the moon, And the sky lays down her laws, The sea speaks in a kingly voice, Light and dark are no enemies But one companion. 'War on the spider and the wren! War on the destiny of man! Doom on the sun!' Before death takes you, O take back this.

“Dylan Thomas Poems - Poems of Dylan Thomas - Poem Hunter.” PoemHunter.com,

www.poemhunter.com/dylan-thomas/poems/.