SPLEEN

Related poetry:

1. Jugurtha How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his death in the hollow Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo! How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, As the vision, that lured him to follow, With […]...
2. The Spleen What art thou, SPLEEN, which ev’ry thing dost ape? Thou Proteus to abus’d Mankind, Who never yet thy real Cause cou’d find, Or fix thee to remain in one continued Shape. Still varying thy perplexing Form, Now a Dead Sea thou’lt represent, A Calm of stupid Discontent, Then, dashing on the Rocks wilt rage into […]...
3. Spleen (IV) Quand le ciel bas et lourd pèse comme un couvercle Sur l’esprit gémissant en proie aux longs ennuis, Et que de l’horizon embrassant tout le cercle Il nous verse un jour noir plus triste que les nuits; Quand la terre est changée en un cachot humide, Où l’espérance, comme un chauve-souris, S’en va battant le […]...
4. Tenuous And Precarious Tenuous and Precarious Were my guardians, Precarious and Tenuous, Two Romans. My father was Hazardous, Hazardous Dear old man, Three Romans. There was my brother Spurious, Spurious Posthumous, Spurious was Spurious, Was four Romans. My husband was Perfidious, He was Perfidious Five Romans. Surreptitious, our son, Was Surreptitious, He was six Romans. Our cat Tedious […]...
5. Lohengrin Back to the mystic shore beyond the main The mystic craft has sped, and left no trace. Ah, nevermore may she behold his face, Nor touch his hand, nor hear his voice again! With hidden front she crouches; all in vain The proffered balm. A vessel nears the place; They bring her young, lost brother; […]...
6. Young Sea The sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting. The sea speaks And only the stormy hearts Know what it says: It is the face of a rough mother speaking. The sea is young. One storm cleans all the hoar And loosens the age of it. I hear […]...
7. This Living Hand This living hand, now warm and capable Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold And in the icy silence of the tomb, So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights That thou wouldst wish thine own heart dry of blood So in my veins red life might stream again, And thou be conscience-calmed […]...
8. Ave Caesar No bitterness: our ancestors did it. They were only ignorant and hopeful, they wanted freedom but wealth too. Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar. Or rather for we are not aquiline Romans but soft mixed colonists Some kindly Sicilian tyrant who’ll keep Poverty and Carthage off until the Romans arrive, We are […]...
9. Hook I was only a young man In those days. On that evening The cold was so God damned Bitter there was nothing. Nothing. I was in trouble With a woman, and there was nothing There but me and dead snow. I stood on the street corner In Minneapolis, lashed This way and that. Wind rose […]...
10. Hymn 145 Christ and Aaron. Heb. 7; 9. Jesus, in thee our eyes behold A thousand glories more, Than the rich gems and polished gold The sons of Aaron wore. They first their own burnt-offerings brought, To purge themselves from sin; Thy life was pure without a spot, And all thy nature clean. [Fresh blood as constant […]...
11. Mater Dolorosa Who is this that sits by the way, by the wild wayside, In a rent stained raiment, the robe of a cast-off bride, In the dust, in the rainfall sitting, with soiled feet bare, With the night for a garment upon her, with torn wet hair? She is fairer of face than the daughters of […]...
12. What Fifty Said When I was young my teachers were the old. I gave up fire for form till I was cold. I suffered like a metal being cast. I went to school to age to learn the past. Now when I am old my teachers are the young. What can’t be molded must be cracked and sprung. […]...
13. 158. Song-The Bonie Moor-hen THE HEATHER was blooming, the meadows were mawn, Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at the dawn, O’er moors and o’er mosses and mony a glen, At length they discover’d a bonie moor-hen. Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men, I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men; Take some on the […]...
14. The Fascination Of What's Difficult The fascination of what’s difficult Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent Spontaneous joy and natural content Out of my heart. There’s something ails our colt That must, as if it had not holy blood Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud, Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt As […]...
15. Celia Beeding, To the Surgeon Fond man, that canst believe her blood Will from those purple channels flow; Or that the pure untainted flood Can any foul distemper know; Or that thy weak steel can incise The crystal case wherein it lies: Know, her quick blood, proud of his seat, Runs dancing through her azure veins; Whose harmony no cold […]...
16. Savoir Faire CAST a bronze of my head and legs and put them on the king’s street. Set the cast of me here alongside Carl XII, making two Carls for the Swedish people and the utlanders to look at between the palace and the Grand Hotel. The summer sun will shine on both the Carls, and November […]...
17. The Mask Of Evil On my wall hangs a Japanese carving, The mask of an evil demon, decorated with gold lacquer. Sympathetically I observe The swollen veins of the forehead, indicating What a strain it is to be evil....
18. Oh! Arranmore, Loved Arranmore Oh! Arranmore, loved Arranmore, How oft I dream of thee, And of those days when, by thy shore, I wander’d young and free. Full many a path I’ve tried, since then, Through pleasure’s flowery maze, But ne’er could find the bliss again I felt in those sweet days. How blithe upon thy breezy cliffs At […]...
19. 371. Song-Lady Mary Ann O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the Castle wa’, She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’, The youngest he was the flower amang them a’, My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s growin’ yet. O father, O father, an ye think it fit, We’ll send him a year to the college yet, We’ll sew […]...
20. War Song Remember the Glories of Brien the Brave Remember the glories of Brien the brave, Though the days of the hero are o’er, Though lost to Mononia and cold to the grave, He returns to Kinkora no more. That star of the field, which so often hath pour’d Its beam on the battle, is set; But […]...
21. The Philosopher, the Young Man, and his Statue A Fond Athenian Mother brought A Sculptor to indulge her Thought, And carve her Only Son; Who to such strange perfection wrought, That every Eye the Statue caught Nor ought was left undone. A youthful Smile adorn’d the Face, The polish gave that Smile a Grace; And through the Marble reigns (Which well the Artist’s […]...
22. Farewell To The Muse Thou Power! who hast ruled me through Infancy’s days, Young offspring of Fancy, ’tis time we should part; Then rise on the gale this the last of my lays, The coldest effusion which springs from my heart. This bosom, responsive to rapture no more, Shall hush thy wild notes, nor implore thee to sing; The […]...
23. Of Politics & Art for Allen Here, on the farthest point of the peninsula The winter storm Off the Atlantic shook the schoolhouse. Mrs. Whitimore, dying Of tuberculosis, said it would be after dark Before the snowplow and bus would reach us. She read to us from Melville. How in an almost calamitous moment Of sea hunting Some men […]...
24. Sorrowing Love And again the flowers are come, And the light shakes, And no tiny voice is dumb, And a bud breaks On the humble bush and the proud restless tree. Come with me! Look, this little flower is pink, And this one white. Here’s a pearl cup for your drink, Here’s for your delight A yellow […]...
25. NOVEMBER SONG To the great archer not to him To meet whom flies the sun, And who is wont his features dim With clouds to overrun But to the boy be vow’d these rhymes, Who ‘mongst the roses plays, Who hear us, and at proper times To pierce fair hearts essays. Through him the gloomy winter night, […]...
26. Riding Together For many, many days together The wind blew steady from the East; For many days hot grew the weather, About the time of our Lady’s Feast. For many days we rode together, Yet met we neither friend nor foe; Hotter and clearer grew the weather, Steadily did the East wind blow. We saw the trees […]...
27. Young and Old 1 When all the world is young, lad, 2 And all the trees are green; 3 And every goose a swan, lad, 4 And every lass a queen; 5 Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 6 And round the world away! 7 Young blood must have its course, lad, 8 And every dog his […]...
28. The Lesson I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs, Rotting flesh and worms do Not convince me against The challenge. The years And cold defeat live deep in Lines along my face. They dull my eyes, yet I keep on dying, Because I love to […]...
29. To A Blossoming Pear Tree Beautiful natural blossoms, Pure delicate body, You stand without trembling. Little mist of fallen starlight, Perfect, beyond my reach, How I envy you. For if you could only listen, I would tell you something, Something human. An old man Appeared to me once In the unendurable snow. He had a singe of white Beard on […]...
30. Why the Young Men Are So Ugly They have little tractors in their blood And all day the tractors climb up and down Inside their arms and legs, their Collarbones and heads. That is why they yell and scream and slam the barbells Down into their clanking slots, Making the metal ring like sledgehammers on iron, Like dungeon prisoners rattling their chains. […]...
31. In The Deep Museum My God, my God, what queer corner am I in? Didn’t I die, blood running down the post, Lungs gagging for air, die there for the sin Of anyone, my sour mouth giving up the ghost? Surely my body is done? Surely I died? And yet, I know, I’m here. What place is this? Cold […]...
32. Dulce Et Decorum Est Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to […]...
33. Elizabeth Childers Dust of my dust, And dust with my dust, O, child who died as you entered the world, Dead with my death! Not knowing breath, though you tried so hard, With a heart that beat when you lived with me, And stopped when you left me for Life. It is well, my child. For you […]...
34. To Live We both have our hands to give Take mine I shall lead you afar I have lived several times my face hasw changed With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn Keeping for itself and for me its perishable snow Death and the betrothed The future with five fingers […]...
35. Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace it self with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steal dead seeming of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is […]...
36. Dream Song 130: When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake up. That was more years ago Than I care to reckon, and my friend is not Dying but adhering to an élite group In California O. Why did I never wake, when covered with blood […]...
37. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling that once was dear? Then, child of misfortune, come hither, I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear. Has love to that […]...
38. Sonnet 118: Like as to make our appetite more keen Like as to make our appetite more keen With eager compounds we our palate urge, As to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we purge. Even so being full of your ne’er-cloying sweetness, To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding; And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness To […]...
39. Sonnet CXVIII Like as, to make our appetites more keen, With eager compounds we our palate urge, As, to prevent our maladies unseen, We sicken to shun sickness when we purge, Even so, being tuff of your ne’er-cloying sweetness, To bitter sauces did I frame my feeding And, sick of welfare, found a kind of meetness To […]...
40. Red-headed Restaurant Cashier SHAKE back your hair, O red-headed girl. Let go your laughter and keep your two proud freckles on your chin. Somewhere is a man looking for a red-headed girl and some day maybe he will look into your eyes for a restaurant cashier and find a lover, maybe. Around and around go ten thousand men […]...