The Stone Comments

I memorized this poem in seventh grade for an oral interpretation competition. Loved it then.

The beauty of this poem is in its simplicity of style, the alluring metres and apt imageries. Never seen any other poem more emotionally appealing!

I had to go to summer school that year to graduate high school. The summer was hot and the school was a long trip. I dreaded it. BUT then, I was read this poem in my English class..... IT forever changed me and inspired me to continue writing my own poetry. I will never forget the moment it that it lit my passiom

A shocking incidence reminding me the agony of lover in pain due to carelessness and greed by the coal miners.

'The Stone' reminds me to treasure the precious gift of love and to acknowledge the fragility of life. Oh, how I pray my generation would appreciate the power of a well written poem to transform an atomsphere; to break open a callous heart. I am so moved by the comments submitted about this poem. I too had a wonderful 8th grade English teacher, the late Mrs. Tiny Campbell, of Marion, SC. A 4'11' firey red- head who drove a canary yellow Mustang and loved to clog with her darling husband, Paul. This little woman is (present tense) a perpetual source of inspiration for her students simply because she forced us to do what we most feared - reach our highest potential. I have been most blessed to have many teachers who pushed me in like manner; however, Tiny Cambell forcing me to recite Rudyard Kipling's, 'If' and Chaucer's prologue to The Canterbury Tales (in Old English) set me on a trajectory to expect more of myself, my children and my own English students. We must succeed because Tiny Campbells everywhere demand our excellence.

This poem was read in the Virginia State poetry reading contest in 1950 by Anne Darden Acey, a senior at the Woodrow Wilson High School in Portsmouth, VA. The competition was held at the University of Virginia. She won the State competition that year. Anne died April 23,2008 at Westminster-Canterbury in Lynchburg, VA. I was in the competition, too, and won the Prose Reading competition by reading my story. Our mentor at the high school was Mrs. MaryJo Brady who was one of the most inspiring teachers we ever had.

My mom died 10 years ago this year and I so remember her quoting this poem all the time. She could not remember all of it and one time I researched to try to find it and never could. I was so shocked the other night when I thought about this poem and tried to look it up on the computer and found it. I just wish my mom was here to get to re-read it. It must have been a very popular poem at that time. Linda Plott

Fabulous to find this poem after over 40 years of remembering the start and the end! I remember reading it at school in Paisley, Scotland and it has stayed with me all this time. I also looked up 'The Laird O' Cockpen'. Wonderful to be able to read them both again and to enjoy them all over again. How wonderfully the author describes the utter sadness of that woman after the suddenness of the death of her lover.

I've searched for this poem for years. It is so moving. I could only remember the last verse and did not know the author's name. Thankyou

You cannot imagine how moved I was to rediscover this poem today,37 years after first reading it. It was first given to me in 1970 by my English master, Hugh Hunter, to read as part of my entry in the school's annual Declamation competition we held at Oakham in those days. The hot favourite for the year was a boarder (Hayward I think his name was) from Peterborough House with his rendition of Albert And The Lion. The boy came from Yorkshire and could do an authentic Yorkshire accent and had indeed, won the competition the year before. I was a day boy and at Oakham in those days that meant second-class citizen. To make matters worse, the competition was held in the evening - so the audience was almost exclusively boarders. When my turn came to read my poem I felt the eyes of the boys (no girls at Oakham in those days!) burning into me...I could sense them saying 'How dare you try to beat our man Hayward? ! ' Fortunately for me, the judges were from the Nottingham Playhouse...professional actors with no loyalties or prejudice for boarders or dayboys. When they announced the winner and called my name out there was almost silence - apart from my English master, Hugh Hunter, who was ecstatic with joy. He told me later that as soon as I had finished reading the last line he knew I had won it. The copy I read was from a book in Hugh Hunter's own library. Many years later - when I was around 35 yrs old I tried to trace the poem with no luck, so I contacted the school. I was told that Hugh had left and gone to Oundle. I wrote to Hugh and heard nothing for a month and then received a letter from Oundle’s Head Master telling me that Hugh had died recently, and when they had cleared his desk they had found my letter. I thought my search for The Stone had died with him and so I am shocked to the point of tears to uncover it again in the files of PoemHunter.com Thank you for bringing me back to a poem – which has lost none of its power over the intervening years. And in a poignant way, it has brought me back to Hugh Hunter, one of the few masters during my time at Oakham who believed in me. I make my living these days by writing and illustrating poetry – and in no small way this is due to Hugh passing on his enthusiasm for literature.

I first read this poem over forty years ago in the library at school and was mesmerised by it. I still love its simplicity and the heart-wringing sadness of the story.