Sheep

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1. Sheep From where I stand the sheep stand still As stones against the stony hill. The stones are gray And so are they. And both are weatherworn and round, Leading the eye back to the ground. Two mingled flocks – The sheep, the rocks. And still no sheep stirs from its place Or lifts its Babylonian […]...
2. The Sheep The Sheep adorns the landscape rural And is both singular and plural- It gives grammarians the creeps To hear one say, “A flock of sheeps.” The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild, And led in herds by man or child- Being less savage than the rabbit, Sheep are gregarious by habit. The Sheep grows wool […]...
3. Sheep and Lambs All in the April evening, April airs were abroad; The sheep with their little lambs Passed me by on the road. The sheep with their little lambs Passed me by on the road; All in the April evening I thought on the Lamb of God. The lambs were weary and crying With a weak, human […]...
4. Counting Sheep A scientist has a test tube full of sheep. He Wonders if he should try to shrink a pasture For them. They are like grains of rice. He wonders if it is possible to shrink something Out of existence. He wonders if the sheep are aware of their tininess, If they have any sense of […]...
5. Waratah and Wattle Though poor and in trouble I wander alone, With rebel cockade in my hat, Though friends may desert me, and kindred disown, My country will never do that! You may sing of the Shamrock, the Thistle, the rose, Or the three in a bunch, if you will; But I know of a country that gathered […]...
6. Villanelle of Change Since Persia fell at Marathon, The yellow years have gathered fast: Long centuries have come and gone. And yet (they say) the place will don A phantom fury of the past, Since Persia fell at Marathon; And as of old, when Helicon Trembled and swayed with rapture vast (Long centuries have come and gone), This […]...
7. The Dons of Spain The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round, Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found; For, as in the days when the buccaneer was abroad on the Spanish Main, The national honour is one thing dear to the hearts […]...
8. The Heart of Australia When the wars of the world seemed ended, and silent the distant drum, Ten years ago in Australia, I wrote of a war to come: And I pictured Australians fighting as their fathers fought of old For the old things, pride or country, for God or the Devil or gold. And they lounged on the […]...
9. Buffalo Dusk THE BUFFALOES are gone. And those who saw the buffaloes are gone. Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and how they pawed the prairie sod into dust with their hoofs, their great heads down pawing on in a great pageant of dusk, Those who saw the buffaloes are gone. And the buffaloes are gone....
10. 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 […]...
11. The Travelling Post Office The roving breezes come and go, the reed-beds sweep and sway, The sleepy river murmers low, and loiters on its way, It is the land of lots o’time along the Castlereagh. . . .. . . . . The old man’s son had left the farm, he found it full and slow, He drifted to […]...
12. At The Beating Of A Drum Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong, And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song; The glorious words and music of Australia’s song shall come When her true hearts rush together at the beating of a drum. We may not be there to hear it – ’twill […]...
13. Tenth Commandment The woman said yes she would go to Australia with him Unless he heard wrong and she said Argentina Where they could learn the tango and pursue the widows Of Nazi war criminals unrepentant to the end. But no, she said Australia. She’d been born in New Zealand. The difference between the two places was […]...
14. The Black Sheep “The aristocratic ne’er-do-well in Canada frequently finds his way Into the ranks of the Royal North-West Mounted Police.” Extract. Hark to the ewe that bore him: “What has muddied the strain? Never his brothers before him Showed the hint of a stain.” Hark to the tups and wethers; Hark to the old gray ram: “We’re […]...
15. The Hog, The Sheep, And Goat, Carrying To A FAIR Who does not wish, ever to judge aright, And, in the Course of Life’s Affairs, To have a quick, and far extended Sight, Tho’ it too often multiplies his Cares? And who has greater Sense, but greater Sorrow shares? This felt the Swine, now carrying to the Knife; And whilst the Lamb and silent Goat […]...
16. A Death Song What cometh here from west to east awending? And who are these, the marchers stern and slow? We bear the message that the rich are sending Aback to those who bade them wake and know. Not one, not one, nor thousands must they slay, But one and all if they would dusk the day. We […]...
17. My Land and I They have eaten their fill at your tables spread, Like friends since the land was won; And they rise with a cry of “Australia’s dead!” With the wheeze of “Australia’s done!” Oh, the theme is stale, but they tell the tale (How the weak old tale will keep!) Like the crows that croak on a […]...
18. A Faery Song Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, In their bridal sleep under a Cromlech. We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of years, If all were told: Give to these children, new from the world, Silence and love; And the long dew-dropping hours of the […]...
19. The Revenge – A Ballad of the Fleet At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a fluttered bird, came flying from far away: ‘Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted’ Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: ”Fore God I am no coward; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, And […]...
20. "We're All Australians Now&quot Australia takes her pen in hand To write a line to you, To let you fellows understand How proud we are of you. From shearing shed and cattle run, From Broome to Hobson’s Bay, Each native-born Australian son Stands straighter up today. The man who used to “hump his drum”, On far-out Queensland runs Is […]...
21. Blood Oranges In 1936, a child In Hitler’s Germany, What did I know about the war in Spain? Andalusia was a tango On a wind-up gramophone, Franco a hero’s face in the paper. No one told me about a poet For whose sake I might have learned Spanish Bleeding to death on a barren hill. All I […]...
22. Monotone The monotone of the rain is beautiful, And the sudden rise and slow relapse Of the long multitudinous rain. The sun on the hills is beautiful, Or a captured sunset sea-flung, Bannered with fire and gold. A face I know is beautiful With fire and gold of sky and sea, And the peace of long […]...
23. Australia's Peril We must suffer, husband and father, we must suffer, daughter and son, For the wrong we have taken part in and the wrong that we have seen done. Let the bride of frivolous fashion, and of ease, be ashamed and dumb, For I tell you the nations shall rule us who have let their children […]...
24. You, Andrew Marvell And here face down beneath the sun And here upon earth’s noonward height To feel the always coming on The always rising of the night To feel creep up the curving east The earthy chill of dusk and slow Upon those under lands the vast And ever climbing shadow grow And strange at Ecbatan the […]...
25. Three Ghosts THREE tailors of Tooley Street wrote: We, the People. The names are forgotten. It is a joke in ghosts. Cutters or bushelmen or armhole basters, they sat Cross-legged stitching, snatched at scissors, stole each Other thimbles. Cross-legged, working for wages, joking each other As misfits cut from the cloth of a Master Tailor, They sat […]...
26. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
27. Jug THE SHALE and water thrown together so-so first of all, Then a potter’s hand on the wheel and his fingers shaping the jug; out of the mud a mouth and a handle; Slimpsy, loose and ready to fall at a touch, fire plays on it, slow fire coaxing all the water out of the shale […]...
28. Wars IN the old wars drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet. In the new wars hum of motors and the tread of rubber tires. In the wars to come silent wheels and whirr of rods not Yet dreamed out in the heads of men. In the old wars clutches of short swords and […]...
29. The Olive Tree Save for a lusterless honing-stone of moon The sky stretches its flawless canopy Blue as the blue silk of the Jewish flag Over the valley and out to sea. It is bluest just above the olive tree. You cannot find in twisted Italy So straight a one; it stands not on a crag, Is not […]...
30. Beneath Thy Cross Am I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, O Christ, beneath thy cross, To number drop by drop Thy Blood’s slow loss, And yet not weep? Not so those women loved Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; Not so the thief was moved; Not so […]...
31. Kin BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother. Then I will warm you, Hold you close, wrap you in circles, Use you and change you Maybe thousands of years, brother. Where the moon slants and wavers....
32. 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 […]...
33. Theme For English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here To this college on the hill above Harlem. I am […]...
34. On the Idle Hill of Summer On the idle hill of summer, Sleepy with the flow of streams, Far I hear the steady drummer Drumming like a noise in dreams. Far and near and low and louder On the roads of earth go by, Dear to friends and food for powder, Soldiers marching, all to die. East and west on fields […]...
35. Chamfort THERE’S Chamfort. He’s a sample. Locked himself in his library with a gun, Shot off his nose and shot out his right eye. And this Chamfort knew how to write And thousands read his books on how to live, But he himself didn’t know How to die by force of his own hand see? They […]...
36. A Western Ballad When I died, love, when I died My heart was broken in your care; I never suffered love so fair As now I suffer and abide When I died, love, when I died. When I died, love, when I died I wearied in an endless maze That men have walked for centuries, As endless as […]...
37. ENDYMION (For music) The apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told, I know he will come back to me. O rising moon! O Lady moon! Be you my lover’s sentinel, You cannot choose […]...
38. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
39. The Bench-Legged Fyce Speakin’ of dorgs, my bench-legged fyce Hed most o’ the virtues, an’ nary a vice. Some folks called him Sooner, a name that arose From his predisposition to chronic repose; But, rouse his ambition, he couldn’t be beat – Yer bet yer he got thar on all his four feet! Mos’ dorgs hez some forte […]...
40. Sumach and Birds IF you never came with a pigeon rainbow purple Shining in the six o’clock September dusk: If the red sumach on the autumn roads Never danced on the flame of your eyelashes: If the red-haws never burst in a million Crimson fingertwists of your heartcrying: If all this beauty of yours never crushed me Then […]...