By the Pool of the Third Rosses

Related poetry:

1. By Loe Pool The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again; I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen, And the cows coming down to the water one by one. Dragon-flies mailed in lapis and malachite Flash through the bending reeds and blaze on the pool; Sea-ward, […]...
2. By A Swimming Pool Outside Syracusa All afternoon I have been struggling To communicate in Italian With Roberto and Giuseppe, who have begun To resemble the two male characters In my Italian for Beginners, The ones who are always shopping Or inquiring about the times of trains, And now I can hardly speak or write English. I have made important pronouncements […]...
3. The Winds Out of the West Land Blow The winds out of the west land blow, My friends have breathed them there; Warm with the blood of lads I know Comes east the sighing air. It fanned their temples, filled their lungs, Scattered their forelocks free; My friends made words of it with tongues That talk no more to me. Their voices, dying […]...
4. Song (Sylvia The Fair, In The Bloom Of Fifteen) Sylvia the fair, in the bloom of fifteen, Felt an innocent warmth as she lay on the green: She had heard of a pleasure, and something she guessed By the towsing and tumbling and touching her breast: She saw the men eager, but was at a loss What they meant by their sighing and kissing […]...
5. His Mansion in the Pool His Mansion in the Pool The Frog forsakes He rises on a Log And statements makes His Auditors two Worlds Deducting me The Orator of April Is hoarse Today His Mittens at his Feet No Hand hath he His eloquence a Bubble As Fame should be Applaud him to discover To your chagrin Demosthenes has […]...
6. The Black Swan When the swans turned my sister into a swan I would go to the lake, at night, from milking: The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan, A swan’s red beak; and the beak would open And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon. Out on the lake, a girl […]...
7. Vivien Her eyes under their lashes were blue pools Fringed round with lilies; her bright hair unfurled Clothed her as sunshine clothes the summer world. Her robes were gauzes gold and green and gules, All furry things flocked round her, from her hand Nibbling their foods and fawning at her feet. Two peacocks watched her where […]...
8. Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many An evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of Bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth Had come to her over the young shoots of rice. Her pet name is known here […]...
9. The Sexes See in the babe two loveliest flowers united yet in truth, While in the bud they seem the same the virgin and the youth! But loosened is the gentle bond, no longer side by side From holy shame the fiery strength will soon itself divide. Permit the youth to sport, and still the wild desire […]...
10. The Pike In the brown water, Thick and silver-sheened in the sunshine, Liquid and cool in the shade of the reeds, A pike dozed. Lost among the shadows of stems He lay unnoticed. Suddenly he flicked his tail, And a green-and-copper brightness Ran under the water. Out from under the reeds Came the olive-green light, And orange […]...
11. Penmaen Pool For the Visitors’ Book at the Inn Who long for rest, who look for pleasure Away from counter, court, or school O where live well your lease of leisure But here at, here at Penmaen Pool? You’ll dare the Alp? you’ll dart the skiff?- Each sport has here its tackle and tool: Come, plant the […]...
12. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing. Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said: […]...
13. The Faded Flower Ungrateful he, who pluck’d thee from thy stalk, Poor faded flow’ret! on his careless way; Inhal’d awhile thy odours on his walk, Then onward pass’d and left thee to decay. Ah! melancholy emblem! had I seen Thy modest beauties dew’d with Evening’s gem, I had not rudely cropp’d thy parent stem, But left thee, blushing, […]...
14. The Meadows In Spring ‘Tis a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing: Sighing, oh! sighing. When such a time cometh, I do retire Into and old room Beside a bright fire: Oh, pile a bright fire! And there I sit Reading old things, Of knights and lorn damsels, While the […]...
15. Old Song TIS a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing: Sighing, O sighing! When such a time cometh I do retire Into an old room Beside a bright fire: O, pile a bright fire! And there I sit Reading old things, Of knights and lorn damsels, While the […]...
16. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
17. Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sighing: No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses, Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn! No more will the wild wind that passes Return, no more return....
18. We to Sigh Instead of Sing “Rain and Rain! and rain and rain!” Yesterday we muttered Grimly as the grim refrain That the thunders uttered: All the heavens under cloud All the sunshine sleeping; All the grasses limply bowed With their weight of weeping. Sigh and sigh! and sigh and sigh! Never end of sighing; Rain and rain for our reply […]...
19. The Scribe What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass, The speck of the stone Which the wayfaring ant Stirs and hastes on! Though I should sit By some tarn in thy hills, Using its ink As the spirit wills To write of Earth’s wonders, Its […]...
20. Nurses Song (Experience) When the voices of children. are heard on the green And whisprings are in the dale: The days of my youth rise fresh in my mind, My face turns green and pale. Then come home my children. the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise Your spring & your day. are wasted […]...
21. The Children of Lir Out upon the sand-dunes thrive the coarse long grasses; Herons standing knee-deep in the brackish pool; Overhead the sunset fire and flame amasses And the moon to eastward rises pale and cool. Rose and green around her, silver-gray and pearly, Chequered with the black rooks flying home to bed; For, to wake at daybreak, birds […]...
22. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
23. On a Line from Valéry (The Gulf War) The whole green sky is dying. The last tree flares With a great burst of supernatural rose Under a canopy of poisonous airs. Could we imagine our return to prayers To end in time before time’s final throes, The green sky dying as the last tree flares? But we were young in judgement, old in […]...
24. Rain Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: […]...
25. Flame-Heart So much have I forgotten in ten years, So much in ten brief years! I have forgot What time the purple apples come to juice, And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. I have forgot the special, startling season Of the pimento’s flowering and fruiting; What time of year the ground doves brown the fields […]...
26. An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny Blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny They are small, and the fountain is in France Where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. You used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper […]...
27. On a Line From Valery (Gulf War) Tout le ciel vert se meurt Le dernier arbre brûle. The whole green sky is dying. The last tree flares With a great burst of supernatural rose Under a canopy of poisonous airs. Could we imagine our return to prayers To end in time before time’s final throes, The green sky dying as the last […]...
28. The Unfading Beauty HE that loves a rosy cheek, Or a coral lip admires, Or from star-like eyes doth seek Fuel to maintain his fires: As old Time makes these decay, So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Gentle thoughts and calm desires, Hearts with equal love combined, Kindle never-dying fires. Where these […]...
29. The Queen of Bubbles [Written for a picture] The Youth speaks: -: “Why do you seek the sun In your bubble-crown ascending? Your chariot will melt to mist. Your crown will have an ending.” The Goddess replies: – : “Nay, sun is but a bubble, Earth is a whiff of foam – To my caves on the coast of […]...
30. Pine-Trees and the Sky: Evening I’d watched the sorrow of the evening sky, And smelt the sea, and earth, and the warm clover, And heard the waves, and the seagull’s mocking cry. And in them all was only the old cry, That song they always sing “The best is over! You may remember now, and think, and sigh, O silly […]...
31. Bells, Pool And Sleep Bells overbrim with sound And spread from cupolas Out through the shaking air Endless unbreaking circles Cool and clear as water. A stone dropped in the water Opens the lips of the pool And starts the unovertaking Rings, till the pool is full Of waves as the air of bells. The deep-sea bell of sleep […]...
32. Since Years Ago For Evermore SINCE years ago for evermore My cedar ship I drew to shore; And to the road and riverbed And the green, nodding reeds, I said Mine ignorant and last farewell: Now with content at home I dwell, And now divide my sluggish life Betwixt my verses and my wife: In vain; for when the lamp […]...
33. The Wood Pool Here is a voice that soundeth low and far And lyric­voice of wind among the pines, Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are, And sunlight seldom shines. Elusive shadows linger shyly here, And wood-flowers blow, like pale, sweet spirit-bloom, And white, slim birches whisper, mirrored clear In the pool’s lucent gloom. Here Pan might pipe, or […]...
34. A stagnant pleasure like a Pool A stagnant pleasure like a Pool That lets its Rushes grow Until they heedless tumble in And make the Water slow Impeding navigation bright Of Shadows going down Yet even this shall rouse itself When freshets come along....
35. Abou Ben Adhem Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold:- Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room […]...
36. Long ago I once knew all the birds that came And nested in our orchard trees; For every flower I had a name My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees; I knew where thrived in yonder glen What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe Oh, I was very learned then; But that was very long ago! I […]...
37. An Address to the Rev. George Gilfillan All hail to the Rev. George Gilfillan of Dundee, He is the greatest preacher I did ever hear or see. He is a man of genius bright, And in him his congregation does delight, Because they find him to be honest and plain, Affable in temper, and seldom known to complain. He preaches in a […]...
38. A Celebration of Charis: I. His Excuse for Loving Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov’d as old again. And it is not always face, Clothes, or fortune, gives the grace; Or the feature, or the youth. But […]...
39. NIGHT SONG WHEN on thy pillow lying, Half listen, I implore, And at my lute’s soft sighing, Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? For at my lute’s soft sighing The stars their blessings pour On feelings never-dying; Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? Those feelings never-dying My spirit aid to soar From earthly conflicts trying; Sleep on! […]...
40. Let It Be Forgotten Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold. Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old. If anyone asks, say it was forgotten Long and long ago, As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed […]...