Home ⇒ 📌Anne Killigrew ⇒ A Farewel (To Worldly Joys.)
A Farewel (To Worldly Joys.)
FArewel ye Unsubstantial Joyes,
Ye Gilded Nothings, Gaudy Toyes,
Too long ye have my Soul misled,
Too long with Aiery Diet fed:
But now my Heart ye shall no more
Deceive, as you have heretofore:
For when I hear such Sirens sing,
Like Ithaca’s fore-warned King,
With prudent Resolution I
Will so my Will and Fancy tye,
That stronger to the Mast not he,
Than I to Reason bound will be:
And though your Witchcrafts strike my Ear,
Unhurt, like him, your Charms I’ll hear.
(2 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Joys of the chase Colours fade into nameless shades of grey And where the tonsure of bas-relief crudely Stands effete, semantic symbolism degrades Into meaninglessness. The artefacts of an old Existence deny you humanity but you don’t Recognise them anyway, they are not bound To objects of power that belay access to reason. In this flat world of monochrome […]...
- A Farewel To America to Mrs. S. W I. ADIEU, New-England’s smiling meads, Adieu, the flow’ry plain: I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring main. II. In vain for me the flow’rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies I mourn for health deny’d. III. Celestial maid of rosy hue, O let me feel […]...
- Poem of Joys 1 O TO make the most jubilant poem! Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death. O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy! Full of common employments! full of grain and trees. O for the voices of animals! O for the swiftness and balance of fishes! O for […]...
- Worldly Place Even in a palace, life may be led well! So spake the imperial sage, purest of men, Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell, Our freedom for a little bread we sell, And drudge under some foolish master’s ken Who rates us if we peer outside our pen Match’d […]...
- The Vanity of All Worldly Things As he said vanity, so vain say I, Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky; Where is the man can say, “Lo, I have found On brittle earth a consolation sound”? What isn’t in honor to be set on high? No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die, And whilst they live, how […]...
- 435. Song-Where are the Joys I have met WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning, That danc’d to the lark’s early song? Where is the peace that awaited my wand’ring, At evening the wild-woods among? No more a winding the course of yon river, And marking sweet flowerets so fair, No more I trace the light footsteps of Pleasure, But […]...
- Like Truthless Dreams, So Are My Joys Expired Like truthless dreams, so are my joys expired, And past return are all my dandled days; My love misled, and fancy quite retired – Of all which passed the sorrow only stays. My lost delights, now clean from sight of land, Have left me all alone in unknown ways; My mind to woe, my life […]...
- Modern Love IV: All Other Joys of Life All other joys of life he strove to warm, And magnify, and catch them to his lip: But they had suffered shipwreck with the ship, And gazed upon him sallow from the storm. Or if Delusion came, ’twas but to show The coming minute mock the one that went. Cold as a mountain in its […]...
- 198. Song-Braving Angry Winer's Storms WHERE, braving angry winter’s storms, The lofty Ochils rise, Far in their shade my Peggy’s charms First blest my wondering eyes; As one who by some savage stream A lonely gem surveys, Astonish’d, doubly marks it beam With art’s most polish’d blaze. Blest be the wild, sequester’d shade, And blest the day and hour, Where […]...
- Examination at the Womb-Door Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death. Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death. Who owns these still-working lungs? Death. Who owns this utility coat of muscles? Death. Who owns these unspeakable guts? Death. Who owns these questionable brains? Death. All this messy blood? Death. These minimum-efficiency eyes? Death. This wicked little tongue? Death. This […]...
- THE FOOL'S EPILOGUE MANY good works I’ve done and ended, Ye take the praise I’m not offended; For in the world, I’ve always thought Each thing its true position hath sought. When praised for foolish deeds am I, I set off laughing heartily; When blamed for doing something good, I take it in an easy mood. If some […]...
- The Unbeliever He sleeps on the top of a mast. – Bunyan He sleeps on the top of a mast With his eyes fast closed. The sails fall away below him Like the sheets of his bed, Leaving out in the air of the night the sleeper’s head. Asleep he was transported there, Asleep he curled In […]...
- THE BRACELET TO JULIA Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this my silken twist? For what other reason is’t, But to shew thee how in part Thou my pretty captive art? But thy bond-slave is my heart; ‘Tis but silk that bindeth thee, Knap the thread and thou art free; But ’tis otherwise with me; I am bound, […]...
- Reason and Passion XV And the priestess spoke again and said: “Speak to us of Reason and Passion.” And he answered saying: Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and […]...
- Sonnet XXXVIII: Sitting Alone, Love Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write; Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay, Boasting that she doth still direct the way, Or else Love were unable to endite. Love, growing angry, vexed at the spleen And scorning Reason’s maimed argument, Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent, Where she with Love conversing hath not […]...
- To A Moralist Are the sports of our youth so displeasing? Is love but the folly you say? Benumbed with the winter, and freezing, You scold at the revels of May. For you once a nymph had her charms, And Oh! when the waltz you were wreathing, All Olympus embraced in your arms All its nectar in Julia’s […]...
- Oh! Doubt Me Not Oh! doubt me not the season Is o’er when Folly made me rove, And now the vestal, Reason, Shall watch the fire awaked by Love. Although this heart was early blown, And fairest hands disturb’d the tree, They only shook some blossoms down Its fruit has all been kept for thee. Then doubt me not […]...
- A Bachelor ‘Why keep a cow when I can buy,’ Said he, ‘the milk I need,’ I wanted to spit in his eye Of selfishness and greed; But did not, for the reason he Was stronger than I be. I told him: ”Tis our human fate, For better or for worse, That man and maid should love […]...
- Was There A Time Was there a time when dancers with their fiddles In children’s circuses could stay their troubles? There was a time they could cry over books, But time has set its maggot on their track. Under the arc of the sky they are unsafe. What’s never known is safest in this life. Under the skysigns they […]...
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- I reason, Earth is short I reason, Earth is short And Anguish absolute And many hurt, But, what of that? I reason, we could die The best Vitality Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that? I reason, that in Heaven Somehow, it will be even Some new Equation, given But, what of that?...
- Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow To the Lord Fairfax. See how the arched Earth does here Rise in a perfect Hemisphere! The stiffest Compass could not strike A line more circular and like; Nor softest Pensel draw a Brow. So equal as this Hill does bow. It seems as for a Model laid, And that the World by it was […]...
- 324. Song-The Charms of Lovely Davies O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours, That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair Than aught they ever gave us, Ere they rehearse, in equal verse, The charms o’ lovely Davies. Each eye it cheers when she appears, Like Phoebus in the morning, When […]...
- Mock Panegyric on a Young Friend In measured verse I’ll now rehearse The charms of lovely Anna: And, first, her mind is unconfined Like any vast savannah. Ontario’s lake may fitly speak Her fancy’s ample bound: Its circuit may, on strict survey Five hundred miles be found. Her wit descends on foes and friends Like famed Niagara’s fall; And travellers gaze […]...
- The Ivy-Wife I LONGED to love a full-boughed beech And be as high as he: I stretched an arm within his reach, And signalled unity. But with his drip he forced a breach, And tried to poison me. I gave the grasp of partnership To one of other race A plane: he barked him strip by strip […]...
- There Are Sounds of Mirth There are sounds of mirth in the night-air ringing, And lamps from every casement shown; While voices blithe within are singing, That seem to say “Come,” in every tone. Ah! once how light, in Life’s young season, My heart had leap’d at that sweet lay; Nor paused to ask of greybeard Reason Should I the […]...
- Jump Rope There is menace In its relentless course, round and round, Describing an ellipsoid, An airy prison in which a young girl Is incarcerated. Whom will she marry? Whom will she love? The rope, like a snake, Has the gift of divination, Yet reveals only a hint, a single initial. But what if she never misses? […]...
- You Don't Believe You don’t believe I won’t attempt to make ye: You are asleep I won’t attempt to wake ye. Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams Of Reason you may drink of Life’s clear streams. Reason and Newton, they are quite two things; For so the swallow and the sparrow sings. Reason says ‘Miracle’: […]...
- Death Snips Proud Men DEATH is stronger than all the governments because the governments are men and men die and then death laughs: Now you see ’em, now you don’t. Death is stronger than all proud men and so death snips proud men on the nose, throws a pair of dice and says: Read ’em and weep. Death sends […]...
- Last Word To Childhood Ice-cold fear has slowly decreased As my bones have grown, my height increased. Though I shiver in snow of dreams, I shall never Freeze again in a noonday terror. I shall never break, my sinews crumble As God-the-headmaster’s fingers fumble At the other side of unopening doors Which I watch for a hundred thousand years. […]...
- To Lovers Ho, ye lovers, list to me; Warning words have I for thee: Give ye heed, hefore ye wed, To this thing Sir Chaucer said: “Love wol not be constrained by maistrie, When maistrie cometh, the god of love anon Beteth his winges, and farewel, he is gon.” Other poets knew as well, And the same […]...
- Morning Poem #40 pink around a Circle of pink Around a shimmer Of found reason Pink around a Glimmering white Shaked around A sound blue Somehow in the Touch of green Looped inside Loops abound A bound ribbon A hope bow bows In a rare season...
- Time Of Disturbance The best is, in war or faction or ordinary vindictive life, not to take sides. Leave it for children, and the emotional rabble of the streets, to back their horse or support a brawler. But if you are forced into it: remember that good and evil are as common as air, and like air shared […]...
- Annabel Lee It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. She was a child and I was a child, […]...
- To Zoл Against the groaning mast I stand, The Atlantic surges swell, To bear me from my native land And Zoл’s wild farewell. From billow upon billow hurl’d I can yet hear her say, ‘And is there nothing in the world Worth one short hour’s delay?’ ‘Alas, my Zoл! were it thus, I should not sail alone, […]...
- Cradle Song What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till thy little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of […]...
- LETTER FROM KIRKHEATON I have no camera but imagination’s tinted glass I cannot pass this crumbling dry stone wall Without a break to catch the vistas of the chain of Pennine hills That splash their shades of colour like mercury in the rising glass. The June sun focuses upon the vivid grass, The elder’s pale amber, the Victoria […]...
- April's Charms When April scatters charms of primrose gold Among the copper leaves in thickets old, And singing skylarks from the meadows rise, To twinkle like black stars in sunny skies; When I can hear the small woodpecker ring Time on a tree for all the birds that sing; And hear the pleasant cuckoo, loud and long […]...
- Harbor Dawn There’s a hush and stillness calm and deep, For the waves have wooed all the winds to sleep In the shadow of headlands bold and steep; But some gracious spirit has taken the cup Of the crystal sky and filled it up With rosy wine, and in it afar Has dissolved the pearl of the […]...
- The Wreck of the Hesperus It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May. The skipper he stood […]...