Begging Another

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1. There comes an hour when begging stops There comes an hour when begging stops, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer is vain. “Thou shalt not” is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God “Disciple, call again.”...
2. 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: […]...
3. The Lobster Quadrille “Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail, “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, […]...
4. The event was directly behind Him The event was directly behind Him Yet He did not guess Fitted itself to Himself like a Robe Relished His ignorance. Motioned itself to drill Loaded and Levelled And let His Flesh Centuries from His soul....
5. Life and Art Not while the fever of the blood is strong, The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less With passion than with tears, the Muse shall bless The poet-sould to help and soothe with song. Not then she bids his trembling lips express The aching gladness, the voluptuous pain. Life is his poem then; […]...
6. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
7. Autumn Whoever has no house now will never have one. Whoever is alone will stay alone Will sit, read, write long letters through the evening And wander on the boulevards, up and down… – from Autumn Day, Rainer Maria Rilke Its stain is everywhere. The sharpening air Of late afternoon Is now the colour of tea. […]...
8. The best days of my life What is it about Bryan Adams and his song ‘Summer of 69’? Why do the lyrics linger? Was it 90° in the shade and the harbinger of the end Of the golden weather, or the impending closure Of a glorious decade? He should have called it ‘The best days of my life’, it would have […]...
9. Love's Deity I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her […]...
10. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
11. The Veteran When I was young and bold and strong, Oh, right was right, and wrong was wrong! My plume on high, my flag unfurled, I rode away to right the world. “Come out, you dogs, and fight!” said I, And wept there was but once to die. But I am old; and good and bad Are […]...
12. Praise (I) To write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise: Mend my estate in any ways, Thou shalt have more. I go to Church; help me to wings, and I Will thither fly; Or, if I mount unto the sky, I will do more. Man is all weakness; there is no […]...
13. How Annandale Went Out “They called it Annandale-and I was there To flourish, to find words, and to attend: Liar, physician, hypocrite, and friend, I watched him; and the sight was not so fair As one or two that I have seen elsewhere: An apparatus not for me to mend – A wreck, with hell between him and the […]...
14. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...
15. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
16. To George Sand: A Desire THOU large-brained woman and large-hearted man, Self-called George Sand! whose soul, amid the lions Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance And answers roar for roar, as spirits can: I would some mild miraculous thunder ran Above the applauded circus, in appliance Of thine own nobler nature’s strength and science, Drawing two pinions, white as wings […]...
17. Life All in the dark we grope along, And if we go amiss We learn at least which path is wrong, And there is gain in this. We do not always win the race, By only running right, We have to tread the mountain’s base Before we reach its height. The Christs alone no errors made; […]...
18. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
19. The Woman And The Angel An angel was tired of heaven, as he lounged in the golden street; His halo was tilted sideways, and his harp lay mute at his feet; So the Master stooped in His pity, and gave him a pass to go, For the space of a moon, to the earth-world, to mix with the men below. […]...
20. Elizabeth Elizabeth, it surely is most fit [Logic and common usage so commanding] In thy own book that first thy name be writ, Zeno and other sages notwithstanding; And I have other reasons for so doing Besides my innate love of contradiction; Each poet – if a poet – in pursuing The muses thro’ their bowers […]...
21. 13. Song-Bonie Peggy Alison Chor.-And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, And I’ll kiss thee o’er again: And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonie Peggy Alison. ILK care and fear, when thou art near I evermair defy them, O! Young kings upon their hansel throne Are no sae blest as I am, O! And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, […]...
22. The Building Higher than the handsomest hotel The lucent comb shows up for miles, but see, All round it close-ribbed streets rise and fall Like a great sigh out of the last century. The porters are scruffy; what keep drawing up At the entrance are not taxis; and in the hall As well as creepers hangs a […]...
23. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
24. In A Gondola The moth’s kiss, first! Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure, this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed Its petals up; so, here and there You brush it, till I grow aware Who wants me, and wide open I burst. The bee’s kiss, now! Kiss me as if you […]...
25. The Question to Lisetta WHAT nymph should I admire or trust, But Chloe beauteous, Chloe just? What nymph should I desire to see, But her who leaves the plain for me? To whom should I compose the lay, But her who listens when I play? To whom in song repeat my cares, But her who in my sorrow shares? […]...
26. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
27. Psalm 145 part 2 v.7ff C. M. The goodness of God. Sweet is the memory of thy grace, My God, my heav’nly King; Let age to age thy righteousness In sounds of glory sing. God reigns on high, but not confines His goodness to the skies; Through the whole earth his bounty shines, And every want supplies. With longing […]...
28. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
29. THE KISS: A DIALOGUE 1 Among thy fancies, tell me this, What is the thing we call a kiss? 2 I shall resolve ye what it is: It is a creature born and bred Between the lips, all cherry-red, By love and warm desires fed, CHOR. And makes more soft the bridal bed. 2 It is an active flame, […]...
30. Benediction Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of Heaven for our earth. He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his Mother’s face. He has not learned to despise the dust, and to hanker after Gold. Clasp him to your heart and bless him. He has […]...
31. The Brook I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip’s farm I flow To join […]...
32. Sowing IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour Between the far Owl’s chuckling first soft cry And the first star. A long stretched hour it was; Nothing undone Remained; the early seeds All safely sown. And now, hark at the rain, […]...
33. THE CRUEL MAID AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I’ll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever; […]...
34. The Scholars Would I could cast a sad on the water Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter, And alight at the comely trees and the lawn, The playing upon pipes and the dancing, And learn that the best thing is To change my loves while dancing And pay but a kiss for […]...
35. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
36. To a Lady and Her Children O’erwhelming sorrow now demands my song: From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung. What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest? What sighs on sighs heave the fond parent’s breast? The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join Th’ increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine; The poor, who once his gen’rous bounty fed, Droop, and bewail […]...
37. THE DEATH OF ART “Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.” -critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry “the death of art.” I am not a poet. I want to be rich and buy things for my family. Besides, I am sort of popular and can honestly say I’ve had a great […]...
38. The Flaming Heart O heart, the equal poise of love’s both parts, Big alike with wounds and darts, Live in these conquering leaves; live all the same, And walk through all tongues one triumphant flame; Live here, great heart, and love and die and kill, And bleed and wound, and yield and conquer still. Let this immortal life, […]...
39. For a Naughty Little Girl My sweet little girl should be cheerful and mild She must not be fretful and cry! Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child, GOD sees you, who lives in the sky. That dear little face, that I like so to kiss, How alter’d and sad it appears! Do you think I can love you […]...
40. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...