Twice a Week the Winter Thorough

Related poetry:

1. A Week Later A week later, I said to a friend: I don’t Think I could ever write about it. Maybe in a year I could write something. There is something in me maybe someday To be written; now it is folded, and folded, And folded, like a note in school. And in my dream Someone was playing […]...
2. Dream Song 92: Room 231: the fourth week Something black somewhere in the vistas of his heart. Tulips from Tates teazed Henry in the mood To be a tulip and desire no more But water, but light, but air. Yet his nerves rattled blackly, unsubdued, & suffocation called, dream-whiskey’d pour Sirening. Rosy there Too fly my Phil & Ellen roses, pal. Flesh-coloured men […]...
3. From Spring Days To Winter (For Music) In the glad springtime when leaves were green, O merrily the throstle sings! I sought, amid the tangled sheen, Love whom mine eyes had never seen, O the glad dove has golden wings! Between the blossoms red and white, O merrily the throstle sings! My love first came into my sight, O perfect vision of […]...
4. Memorabilia of Last Week Monday, March 13, 1826 The Budget – quite charming and witty – no hearing, For plaudits and laughs, the good things that were in it; Great comfort to find, though the Speech isn’t cheering, That all its gay auditors were, every minute. What, still more prosperity! – mercy upon us, “This boy’ll be the death […]...
5. Ike Walton's Prayer I crave, dear Lord, No boundless hoard Of gold and gear, Nor jewels fine, Nor lands, nor kine, Nor treasure-heaps of anything.- Let but a little hut be mine Where at the hearthstore I may hear The cricket sing, And have the shine Of one glad woman’s eyes to make, For my poor sake, Our […]...
6. A Poet's Wooing I woo’d a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind. Tennyson “What may I do to make you glad, To make you glad and free, Till your light smiles glance And your bright eyes dance Like sunbeams on the sea? Read some rhyme that is blithe and gay Of a bright May […]...
7. Easter Week (In memory of Joseph Mary Plunkett) (“Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone, It’s with O’Leary in the grave.”) William Butler Yeats. “Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone, It’s with O’Leary in the grave.” Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawn A hue so radiantly brave? There was a rain of blood that day, Red rain in gay […]...
8. Ballad of a Ship Down by the flash of the restless water The dim White Ship like a white bird lay; Laughing at life and the world they sought her, And out she swung to the silvering bay. Then off they flew on their roystering way, And the keen moon fired the light foam flying Up from the flood […]...
9. Lines For Winter Tell yourself As it gets cold and gray falls from the air That you will go on Walking, hearing The same tune no matter where You find yourself Inside the dome of dark Or under the cracking white Of the moon’s gaze in a valley of snow. Tonight as it gets cold Tell yourself What […]...
10. Winter A wrinkled crabbed man they picture thee, Old Winter, with a rugged beard as grey As the long moss upon the apple-tree; Blue-lipt, an icedrop at thy sharp blue nose, Close muffled up, and on thy dreary way Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows. They should have drawn thee by the high-heapt hearth, Old […]...
11. 220. Song-The Winter it is Past THE WINTER it is past, and the summer comes at last And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree; Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I am very sad, Since my true love is parted from me. The rose upon the breer, by the waters running clear, May have charms for the linnet or […]...
12. Last Week Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run, But he should have gone there last week. He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun, But of turkey of duck saw never a one, For he should have been there last week, They said, There were flocks of ’em there last week. He wended his way […]...
13. Easter Week See the land, her Easter keeping, Rises as her Maker rose. Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping, Burst at last from winter snows. Earth with heaven above rejoices; Fields and gardens hail the spring; Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices, While the wild birds build and sing. You, to whom your Maker granted Powers to […]...
14. Thirty Bob a Week I couldn’t touch a stop and turn a screw, And set the blooming world a-work for me, Like such as cut their teeth I hope, like you On the handle of a skeleton gold key; I cut mine on a leek, which I eat it every week: I’m a clerk at thirty bob as you […]...
15. Week-Night Service The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never resting, Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping In splashes of sound, endlessly, never stopping. The silver moon That somebody has spun so high To settle the question, yes or no, has caught In […]...
16. Winter-Time Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; Blinks but an hour or two; and then, A blood-red orange, sets again. Before the stars have left the skies, At morning in the dark I rise; And shivering in my nakedness, By the cold candle, bathe and dress. Close by the jolly fire I […]...
17. HOLY WEEK AT GENOA I wandered through Scoglietto’s far retreat, The oranges on each o’erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame the day; Some startled bird with fluttering wings and fleet Made snow of all the blossoms; at my feet Like silver moons the pale narcissi lay: And the curved waves that streaked the great green […]...
18. 'Twas later when the summer went ‘Twas later when the summer went Than when the Cricket came And yet we knew that gentle Clock Meant nought but Going Home ‘Twas sooner when the Cricket went Than when the Winter came Yet that pathetic Pendulum Keeps esoteric Time....
19. Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads And pick you posies gay? ‘Twill do no harm to take my arm. ‘You may, young man, you may.’ Ah, spring was sent […]...
20. To Winter O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors: The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs, Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.’ He hears me not, but o’er the yawning deep Rides heavy; his storms are unchain’d, sheathиd In ribbиd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes, […]...
21. Winter: My Secret I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: Perhaps some day, who knows? But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows, And you’re too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well: Only, my secret’s mine, and I won’t tell. Or, after all, perhaps there’s none: Suppose there is no secret after all, But […]...
22. Dear March Come in Dear March Come in How glad I am I hoped for you before Put down your Hat You must have walked How out of Breath you are Dear March, Come right up the stairs with me I have so much to tell I got your Letter, and the Birds The Maples never knew that you […]...
23. Starlings in Winter Chunky and noisy, But with stars in their black feathers, They spring from the telephone wire And instantly They are acrobats In the freezing wind. And now, in the theater of air, They swing over buildings, Dipping and rising; They float like one stippled star That opens, Becomes for a moment fragmented, Then closes again; […]...
24. Winter Sleep When against earth a wooden heel Clicks as loud as stone on steel, When stone turns flour instead of flakes, And frost bakes clay as fire bakes, When the hard-bitten fields at last Crack like iron flawed in the cast, When the world is wicked and cross and old, I long to be quit of […]...
25. Good Friday O my chief good, How shall I measure out thy blood? How shall I count what thee befell, And each grief tell? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes? Or, since one star show’d thy first breath, Shall all thy death? Or shall each leaf, Which falls in Autumn, score a grief? Or […]...
26. A Winter Day I The air is silent save where stirs A bugling breeze among the firs; The virgin world in white array Waits for the bridegroom kiss of day; All heaven blooms rarely in the east Where skies are silvery and fleeced, And o’er the orient hills made glad The morning comes in wonder clad; Oh, ’tis […]...
27. Autumn And Winter Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon Between two dates of death, while men were fain Yet of the living light that all too soon Three months bade wane. Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he […]...
28. ARCADIAN WINTER WOE is me to tell it thee, Winter winds in Arcady! Scattered is thy flock and fled From the glades where once it fed, And the snow lies drifted white In the bower of our delight, Where the beech threw gracious shade On the cheek of boy and maid: And the bitter blasts make roar […]...
29. Winter Stores WE take from life one little share, And say that this shall be A space, redeemed from toil and care, From tears and sadness free. And, haply, Death unstrings his bow And Sorrow stands apart, And, for a little while, we know The sunshine of the heart. Existence seems a summer eve, Warm, soft, and […]...
30. Past Days ‘Tis strange to think, there was a time When mirth was not an empty name, When laughter really cheered the heart, And frequent smiles unbidden came, And tears of grief would only flow In sympathy for others’ woe; When speech expressed the inward thought, And heart to kindred heart was bare, And Summer days were […]...
31. The Task: Book IV, The Winter Evening (excerpts) Hark! ’tis the twanging horn! O’er yonder bridge, That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright, He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spatter’d boots, strapp’d waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumb’ring at his back. True to […]...
32. To a Locomotive in Winter THEE for my recitative! Thee in the driving storm, even as now-the snow-the winter-day declining; Thee in thy panoply, thy measured dual throbbing, and thy beat convulsive; Thy black cylindric body, golden brass, and silvery steel; Thy ponderous side-bars, parallel and connecting rods, gyrating, shuttling at thy sides; Thy metrical, now swelling pant and roar-now […]...
33. LION AND LIONESS ONE night we were together, you and I, And had unsown Assyria for a lair, Before the walls of Babylon rose in air. How languid hills were heaped along the sky, And white bones marked the wells of alkali, When suddenly down the lion-path a sound. . . The wild man-odor. . . then a […]...
34. The Winter Scene I The rutted roads are all like iron; skies Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling In the bare woods, or the hardy bitter-sweet; Drivers have put their sheepskin jackets on; And all the ponds are sealed with sheeted ice That rings with stroke of skate and hockey-stick, Or in the twilight cracks with […]...
35. Redbud Trail – Winter It’s two muddy miles from Highway 20, Just past the north fork of Cache Creek, Across the broad meadow, through Blue oak woodland, up, up to the ridge, And back down to the creek bank, The crossing point, me striding with Mud caking my old hiking boots. For a millennia the Miwok people walked These […]...
36. The Distant Winter from an officer’s diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. “Stephan! Stephan!” The rattling orderly Comes on a trot, the cold tray in his hands: Toast whitening with oleo, brown tea, Yesterday’s napkins, and an opened letter. “Your asthma’s bad, old man.” He doesn’t answer, And turns to […]...
37. Border Ballad March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order! March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a banner spread, Flutters above your head, Many a crest that is famous in story. Mount and make ready then, Sons of the mountain glen, Fight […]...
38. WINTER JOURNEY OVER THE HARTZ MOUNTAINS [The following explanation is necessary, in order To make this ode in any way intelligible. The Poet is supposed to Leave his companions, who are proceeding on a hunting expedition In winter, in order himself to pay a visit to a hypochondriacal Friend, and also to see the mining in the Hartz mountains. The ode […]...
39. Marzo Pazzo Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread, Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn’s arch Hails re-risen again from the dead Mad March. Soft small flames on rowan and larch Break forth as laughter on lips that said Nought till the pulse in them beat love’s march. But the heartbeat now in the […]...
40. Irony Always, sweetheart, Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry, Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring Fresh quivering; keep the sunny-swift March-days waiting In a little throng at your door, and admit the one who is plaiting Her […]...