Tis Time, I Think, By Wenlock Town

Related poetry:

1. On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble On Wenlock Edge the wood’s in trouble; His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves; The gale, it plies the saplings double, And thick on Severn snow the leaves. ‘Twould blow like this through holt and hanger When Uricon the city stood; ‘Tis the old wind in the old anger, But then it threshed another wood. Then, […]...
2. A Calendar of Sonnets: September O golden month! How high thy gold is heaped! The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung On wands; the chestnut’s yellow pennons tongue To every wind its harvest challenge. Steeped In yellow, still lie fields where wheat was reaped; And yellow still the corn sheaves, stacked among The yellow gourds, which from the earth […]...
3. The Town Between the Hills The further the little girl leaped and ran, The further she longed to be; The white, white fields of jonquil flowers Danced up as high as her knee And flashed and sparkled before her eyes Until she could hardly see. So into the wood went she. It was quiet in the wood, It was solemn […]...
4. In the Rangitaki Valley Valley of waving broom, O lovely, lovely light, O hear of the world, red-gold! Breast high in the blossom I stand; It beats about me like waves Of a magical, golden sea The barren heart of the world Alive at the kiss of the sun, The yellow mantle of Summer Flung over a laughing land, […]...
5. Images of snow – february 1996 snow is a thousand flowers The chinese probably said Hundreds and thousands this morning Drop their garlands on my head Last night the festoons started Long before we went to bed Snow is a white-furred rabbit The chinese probably wrote Hedgerows and fields this morning Wear a similar fluffy coat Last night the winter danced […]...
6. Potomac Town in February THE BRIDGE says: Come across, try me; see how good I am. The big rock in the river says: Look at me; learn how to stand up. The white water says: I go on; around, under, over, I go on. A kneeling, scraggly pine says: I am here yet; they nearly got me last year. […]...
7. Modern Love XXXVII: Along the Garden Terrace Along the garden terrace, under which A purple valley (lighted at its edge By smoky torch-flame on the long cloud-ledge Whereunder dropped the chariot), glimmers rich, A quiet company we pace, and wait The dinner-bell in prae-digestive calm. So sweet up violet banks the Southern balm Breathes round, we care not if the bell be […]...
8. In an Old Town Garden Shut from the clamor of the street By an old wall with lichen grown, It holds apart from jar and fret A peace and beauty all its own. The freshness of the springtime rains And dews of morning linger here; It holds the glow of summer noons And ripest twilights of the year. Above its […]...
9. The Prince's Progress (excerpt) “Too late for love, too late for joy, Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch Died without a mate. The enchanted princess in her tower Slept, died, behind the grate; Her heart was starving all this while You made it […]...
10. Bride Song From ‘The Prince’s Progress’ TOO late for love, too late for joy, Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch Died without a mate; The enchanted princess in her tower Slept, died, behind the grate; Her heart was starving all this […]...
11. I'll clutch and clutch I’ll clutch and clutch Next One Might be the golden touch Could take it Diamonds Wait I’m diving just a little late But stars go slow for night I’ll string you in fine Necklace Tiaras make of some Wear you on Hem Loop up a Countess with you Make a Diadem and mend my old […]...
12. The Most Beautiful Woman In Town Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl In town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes To go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that Would not hold […]...
13. The Wildy Ones The sheep are in the silver wood, The cows are in the broom; The goats are in the wild mountain And won’t be home by noon. My mother sang that olden tune Most every night, And to her newest she would croon By candle light; While cuddling in the velvet gloom I’d dream of cows […]...
14. A Voice from the Town I thought, in the days of the droving, Of steps I might hope to retrace, To be done with the bush and the roving And settle once more in my place. With a heart that was well nigh to breaking, In the long, lonely rides on the plain, I thought of the pleasure of taking […]...
15. A Letter from Artemesia in the Town to Chloe in the Country Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you’ll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with our sex agree Than lofty flights of dangerous poetry. Amongst the men, I mean the men of wit (At least they passed for such before they writ), How many bold adventureers for the bays, Proudly […]...
16. The Right to Grief To Certain Poets About to Die TAKE your fill of intimate remorse, perfumed sorrow, Over the dead child of a millionaire, And the pity of Death refusing any check on the bank Which the millionaire might order his secretary to Scratch off And get cashed. Very well, You for your grief and I for mine. […]...
17. Answers Why did you travel? Because the house was cold. Why did you travel? Because it is what I have always done between sunset and sunrise. What did you wear? I wore a blue suit, a white shirt, yellow tie, and yellow socks. What did you wear? I wore nothing. A scarf of pain kept me […]...
18. Bar Italia How beautiful it would be to wait for you again In the usual place, Not looking at the door, Keeping a lookout in the long mirror, Knowing that if you are late It will not be too late, Knowing that all I have to do Is wait a little longer And you will be pushing […]...
19. A New Broom I bought a new broom today And swept the cobwebs down, A thick accumulation of dregs, A mass of tangles and smut. I whisked a conglomeration of dust That forever stuck-inaccessible. Lifted the rug under which was hidden Years of grime that Made traversing treacherous with things that trip you up. I rolled that rug […]...
20. Satire II:The Country Mouse and the Town Mouse MY mother’s maids, when they did sew and spin, They sang sometime a song of the field mouse, That for because her livelood was but thin [livelihood] Would needs go seek her townish sister’s house. She thought herself endured to much pain: The stormy blasts her cave so sore did souse That when the furrows […]...
21. Town Owl On eves of cold, when slow coal fires, Rooted in basements, burn and branch, Brushing with smoke the city air; When quartered moons pale in the sky, And neons glow along the dark Like deadly nightshade on a briar; Above the muffled traffic then I hear the owl, and at his note I shudder in […]...
22. Out of Town Out of town the sky was bright and blue, Never fog-cloud, lowering, thick, was seen to frown; Nature dons a garb of gayer hue, Out of town. Spotless lay the snow on field and down, Pure and keen the air above it blew; All wore peace and beauty for a crown. London sky, marred by […]...
23. Big Night On The Town drunk on the dark streets of some city, It’s night, you’re lost, where’s your Room? You enter a bar to find yourself, Order scotch and water. Damned bar’s sloppy wet, it soaks Part of one of your shirt Sleeves. It’s a clip joint-the scotch is weak. You order a bottle of beer. Madame Death walks […]...
24. 516. Song-I'll aye ca' in by yon town Chorus-I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town, And by yon garden-green again; I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town, And see my bonie Jean again. THERE’S nane sall ken, there’s nane can guess What brings me back the gate again, But she, my fairest faithfu’ lass, And stownlins we sall meet again. I’ll aye ca’ […]...
25. 517. Song-O wat ye wha's in yon town Chorus-O wat ye wha’s in yon town, Ye see the e’enin sun upon, The dearest maid’s in yon town, That e’ening sun is shining on. NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, She wanders by yon spreading tree; How blest ye flowers that round her blaw, Ye catch the glances o’ her e’e! O wat […]...
26. Emptying Town I want to erase your footprints From my walls. Each pillow Is thick with your reasons. Omens Fill the sidewalk below my window: a woman In a party hat, clinging To a tin-foil balloon. Shadows Creep slowly across the tar, someone yells, “Stop!” And I close my eyes. I can’t watch As this town slowly […]...
27. A Thunderstorm In Town (A Reminiscence, 1893) She wore a ‘terra-cotta’ dress, And we stayed, because of the pelting storm, Within the hansom’s dry recess, Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless We sat on, snug and warm. Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain, And the glass that had screened our forms before Flew up, and […]...
28. We Go Out Together In the Staring Town We go out together into the staring town And buy cheese and bread and little jugs with Flowered labels Everywhere is a tent where we put on our whirling Show A great deal has been said of the handless serpents Which war has set loose in the gay milk of our Heads But because you […]...
29. The Town Down by the River I Said the Watcher by the Way To the young and the unladen, To the boy and to the maiden, “God be with you both to-day. First your song came ringing, Now you come, you two Knowing naught of what you do, Or of what your dreams are bringing. “O you children who go singing […]...
30. Spring in Town The country ever has a lagging Spring, Waiting for May to call its violets forth, And June its roses showers and sunshine bring, Slowly, the deepening verdure o’er the earth; To put their foliage out, the woods are slack, And one by one the singing-birds come back. Within the city’s bounds the time of flowers […]...
31. The Road to Old Man's Town The fields of youth are filled with flowers, The wine of youth is strong: What need have we to count the hours? The summer days are long. But soon we find to our dismay That we are drifting down The barren slopes that fall away Towards the foothills grim and grey That lead to Old […]...
32. The Return From Town As I sat down by Saddle Stream To bathe my dusty feet there, A boy was standing on the bridge Any girl would meet there. As I went over Woody Knob And dipped into the hollow, A youth was coming up the hill Any maid would follow. Then in I turned at my own gate,- […]...
33. The Town Marshal The Prohibitionists made me Town Marshal When the saloons were voted out, Because when I was a drinking man, Before I joined the church, I killed a Swede At the saw-mill near Maple Grove. And they wanted a terrible man, Grim, righteous, strong, courageous, And a hater of saloons and drinkers, To keep law and […]...
34. Town and Country Here, where love’s stuff is body, arm and side Are stabbing-sweet ‘gainst chair and lamp and wall. In every touch more intimate meanings hide; And flaming brains are the white heart of all. Here, million pulses to one centre beat: Closed in by men’s vast friendliness, alone, Two can be drunk with solitude, and meet […]...
35. Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones In fact, he’s remarkably fat. He doesn’t haunt pubs he has eight or nine clubs, For he’s the St. James’s Street Cat! He’s the Cat we all greet as he walks down the street In his coat of fastidious black: No commonplace mousers have such well-cut trousers Or […]...
36. The Ancient Town of Leith Ancient town of Leith, most wonderful to be seen, With your many handsome buildings, and lovely links so green, And the first buildings I may mention are the Courthouse and Town Hall, Also Trinity House, and the Sailors’ Home of Call. Then as for Leith Fort, it was erected in 1779, which is really grand, […]...
37. Atalanta In Camden – Town AY, ’twas here, on this spot, In that summer of yore, Atalanta did not Vote my presence a bore, Nor reply to my tenderest talk “She had Heard all that nonsense before.” She’d the brooch I had bought And the necklace and sash on, And her heart, as I thought, Was alive to my passion; […]...
38. 532. Song-Their groves o' sweet myrtle THEIR groves o’ sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume; Far dearer to me yon lone glen o’ green breckan, Wi’ the burn stealing under the lang, yellow broom. Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowèrs Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk, lowly, unseen; For there, lightly tripping, […]...
39. Late, Late, So Late Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light: so late! […]...
40. To Jośe Marίa Palacio Palacio, good friend, Is spring there Showing itself on branches of black poplars By the roads and river? On the steeps Of the high Duero, spring is late, But so soft and lovely when it comes! Are there a few new leaves On the old elms? The acacias must still be bare, And the mountain […]...