Expectans Expectavi

Related poetry:

1. The Dove If haply thou, O Desdemona Morn, Shouldst call along the curving sphere, “Remain, Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leave me not in scorn!” With soft halloos of heavenly love and pain; Shouldst thou, O Spring! a-cower in coverts dark, ‘Gainst proud supplanting Summer sing thy plea, And move the mighty woods through mailed bark Till […]...
2. Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow’st In one of thine, from that which thou departest, And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow’st, Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; Without this folly, age, and cold decay, If all were minded so, the […]...
3. Sonnet XI As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou growest In one of thine, from that which thou departest; And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestowest Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest. Herein lives wisdom, beauty and increase: Without this, folly, age and cold decay: If all were minded so, the […]...
4. Beauteous Individuality Thou in truth shouldst be one, yet not with the whole shouldst thou be so. ‘Tis through the reason thou’rt one, art so with it through the heart. Voice of the whole is thy reason, but thou thine own heart must be ever; If in thy heart reason dwells evermore, happy art thou....
5. Sardis (Revelations, iii. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord, “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search, Find thy zeal and love decay’d; Thou art call’d a living church, But thou art cold and dead. “Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert […]...
6. NEITHER THIS NOR THAT IF thou to be a slave shouldst will, Thou’lt get no pity, but fare ill; And if a master thou wouldst be, The world will view it angrily; And if in statu quo thou stay, That thou art but a fool, they’ll say. 1815.*...
7. The Poet To Death TARRY a while, O Death, I cannot die While yet my sweet life burgeons with its spring; Fair is my youth, and rich the echoing boughs Where dhadikulas sing. Tarry a while, O Death, I cannot die With all my blossoming hopes unharvested, My joys ungarnered, all my songs unsung, And all my tears unshed. […]...
8. The Apparition When by thy scorn, O murd’ress, I am dead, And that thou think’st thee free From all solicitation from me, Then shall my ghost come to thy bed, And thee, feigned vestal, in worse arms shall see; Then thy sick taper will begin to wink, And he, whose thou art then, being tired before, Will, […]...
9. Awake, My Heart Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake The o’ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake! She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee: Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee, Already they watch the path thy […]...
10. Sonnet XXXVII: Dear, Why Should You Dear, why should you command me to my rest When now the night doth summon all to sleep? Methinks this time becometh lovers best; Night was ordain’d, together friends to keep; How happy are all other living things Which through the day disjoin by sev’ral flight, The quiet ev’ning yet together brings, And each returns […]...
11. I prithee send me back my heart I prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why, then, shouldst thou have mine? Yet now I think on’t, let it lie, To find it were in vain; For thou hast a thief in either eye Would steal it back again. Why should […]...
12. The Sun Rising Busy old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late schoolboys and sour ‘prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the King will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows, nor […]...
13. To Thee, Old Cause! TO thee, old Cause! Thou peerless, passionate, good cause! Thou stern, remorseless, sweet Idea! Deathless throughout the ages, races, lands! After a strange, sad war-great war for thee, (I think all war through time was really fought, and ever will be really fought, for thee;) These chants for thee-the eternal march of thee. Thou orb […]...
14. 317. Song-The Banks o' Doon (Second Version) YE flowery banks o’ bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough! Thou minds me o’ the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Thou’ll break my heart, thou […]...
15. Prayer XXIII Then a priestess said, “Speak to us of Prayer.” And he answered, saying: You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance. For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether? And if […]...
16. Psalm 8 part 2 v. 3ff, paraphrased. L. M. Adam and Christ, lords of the old and new creation. Lord, what was man, when made at first, Adam the offspring of the dust, That thou shouldst set him and his race But just below an angel’s place? That thou shouldst raise his nature so, And make him lord of […]...
17. 316. Song-The Banks o' Doon (First Version) SWEET are the banks-the banks o’ Doon, The spreading flowers are fair, And everything is blythe and glad, But I am fu’ o’ care. Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o’ the happy days When my fause Luve was true: Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie […]...
18. 487. The Lover's Morning Salute to his Mistress SLEEP’ST thou, or wak’st thou, fairest creature? Rosy morn now lifts his eye, Numbering ilka bud which Nature Waters wi’ the tears o’ joy. Now, to the streaming fountain, Or up the heathy mountain, The hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray; In twining hazel bowers, Its lay the linnet pours, The laverock to the […]...
19. Where Shall the Lover Rest Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From the true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the fair billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. Chorus. Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce […]...
20. 11. Song-Here's to thy health, my bonie lass HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass, Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door, To tell thee that I lo’e thee. O dinna think, my pretty pink, But I can live without thee: I vow and swear I dinna care, How lang ye look about ye. Thou’rt aye […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Eleu Loro Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From his true maiden’s breast Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die Under the willow. Eleu loro Soft shall be his pillow. There through the summer day Cool streams are laving: There, while the tempests sway, […]...
23. The Borders To say that she came into me, From another world, is not true. Nothing comes into the universe And nothing leaves it. My mother-I mean my daughter did not Enter me. She began to exist Inside me-she appeared within me. And my mother did not enter me. When she lay down, to pray, on me, […]...
24. I. THE PARIAH'S PRAYER DREADED Brama, lord of might! All proceed from thee alone; Thou art he who judgeth right! Dost thou none but Brahmins own? Do but Rajahs come from thee? None but those of high estate? Didst not thou the ape create, Aye, and even such as we? We are not of noble kind, For with woe […]...
25. Psalm 87 Among the holy Mountains high Is his foundation fast, There Seated in his Sanctuary, His Temple there is plac’t. Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more Then all the dwellings faire Of Jacobs Land, though there be store, And all within his care. City of God, most glorious things Of thee abroad are spoke; I […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. O Singer in Brown O, singer in brown! O, bird o’ th’ morn! O, heart of delight In th’ deep o’ th’ thorn! Glad is thy song Thou joy o’ th’ morn, Thou palpitant throat In the heart o’ th’ thorn! Thy song of the nest, O, sweet o’ th’ morn! A nest and an egg In the thick […]...
28. Songs of Joy Sing out, my soul, thy songs of joy; Sing as a happy bird will sing Beneath a rainbow’s lovely arch In the spring. Think not of death in thy young days; Why shouldst thou that grim tyrant fear? And fear him not when thou art old, And he is near. Strive not for gold, for […]...
29. MEASURE OF TIME EROS, what mean’st thou by this? In each of thine hands is an Hourglass! What, oh thou frivolous god! twofold thy measure of time? “Slowly run from the one, the hours of lovers when parted; While through the other they rush swiftly, as soon as they meet.” 1789.*...
30. Ruth She stood breast-high amid the corn, Clasp’d by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won. On her cheek an autumn flush, Deeply ripen’d;-such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn. Round her eyes her tresses fell, […]...
31. TO MUSIC: A SONG Music, thou queen of heaven, care-charming spell, That strik’st a stillness into hell; Thou that tam’st tigers, and fierce storms, that rise, With thy soul-melting lullabies; Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming spheres To charm our souls, as thou enchant’st our ears....
32. Sonnet XLI: Why Do I Speak of Joy Love’s Lunacy Why do I speak of joy, or write of love, When my heart is the very den of horror, And in my soul the pains of Hell I prove, With all his torments and infernal terror? What should I say? What yet remains to do? My brain is dry with weeping all too […]...
33. To Wordsworth Poet of Nature, thou hast wept to know That things depart which never may return: Childhood and youth, friendship and love’s first glow, Have fled like sweet dreams, leaving thee to mourn. These common woes I feel. One loss is mine Which thou too feel’st, yet I alone deplore. Thou wert as a lone star, […]...
34. The Philosophical Egotist Hast thou the infant seen that yet, unknowing of the love Which warms and cradles, calmly sleeps the mother’s heart above Wandering from arm to arm, until the call of passion wakes, And glimmering on the conscious eye the world in glory breaks? And hast thou seen the mother there her anxious vigil keep? Buying […]...
35. GROWTH O’ER field and plain, in childhood’s artless days, Thou sprang’st with me, on many a spring-morn fair. “For such a daughter, with what pleasing care, Would I, as father, happy dwellings raise!” And when thou on the world didst cast thy gaze, Thy joy was then in household toils to share. “Why did I trust […]...
36. Trespassers When Love and I drew softly nigh And gazed in modest Chloe’s eye We saw reflected there in part The lovely mansion of her heart, A sight so fair that, quite bereft Of sense and shame, we had but left One wish, that we by foul or fair Might enter in and tarry there. But […]...
37. Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
38. In Salutation to the Eternal Peace Men say the world is full of fear and hate, And all life’s ripening harvest-fields await The restless sickle of relentless fate. But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born, When from the climbing terraces of corn I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn. What care I for the world’s desire and pride, […]...
39. Sonnet LXX That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
40. Late, Late, So Late Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light: so late! […]...