To Germany

Related poetry:

1. To What Shall I Compare Her? TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer – fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her, The sainted of my youth? For she is truer – truer Than the truth. As the stars are from the sleeper, Her heart is hid from me; For […]...
2. A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany In what torn ship soever I embark, That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark; What sea soever swallow me, that flood Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood; Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes, Which, though they turn away […]...
3. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
4. Germany And Her Princes Thou hast produced mighty monarchs, of whom thou art not unworthy, For the obedient alone make him who governs them great. But, O Germany, try if thou for thy rulers canst make it Harder as kings to be great, easier, though, to be men!...
5. A Woman's Shortcomings She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, She has counted six, and over, Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried – Oh, each a worthy lover! They “give her time”; for her soul must slip Where the world has set the grooving; She will lie to none with her fair […]...
6. A Jewish Cemetery In Germany On a little hill amid fertile fields lies a small cemetery, A Jewish cemetery behind a rusty gate, hidden by shrubs, Abandoned and forgotten. Neither the sound of prayer Nor the voice of lamentation is heard there For the dead praise not the Lord. Only the voices of our children ring out, seeking graves and […]...
7. O Germany, Pale Mother! Let others speak of her shame, I speak of my own. O Germany, pale mother! How soiled you are As you sit among the peoples. You flaunt yourself Among the besmirched. The poorest of your sons Lies struck down. When his hunger was great. Your other sons Raised their hands against him. This is notorious. […]...
8. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
9. The Hunter The hunter crouches in his blind ‘Neath camouflage of every kind And conjures up a quacking noise To lend allure to his decoys This grown-up man, with pluck and luck Is hoping to outwit a duck...
10. The Receptionist France is the fairest land on earth, Lovely to heart’s desire, And twice a year I span its girth, Its beauty to admire. But when a pub I seek each night, To my profound vexation On form they hand me I’ve to write My occupation. So once in a derisive mood My pen I nibbled; […]...
11. The Divine Image To Mercy Pity Peace and Love. All pray in their distress: And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy Pity Peace and Love, Is God our Father dear: And Mercy Pity Peace and Love, Is Man his child and care. For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face: And Love, […]...
12. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
13. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
14. Elegy Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride On that darkest day. Oh, forever may He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow Young among the long […]...
15. Sailor's Sweetheart He sleeps beside me in the bed; Upon my breast I hold his head; Oh how I would that we were wed, For he sails in the morning. I wish I had not been so kind; But love is fain and passion blind, While out of sight is out of mind, And he ships in […]...
16. Peace Ah, that Time could touch a form That could show what Homer’s age Bred to be a hero’s wage. ‘Were not all her life but storm Would not painters paint a form Of such noble lines,’ I said, ‘Such a delicate high head, All that sternness amid charm, All that sweetness amid strength?’ Ah, but […]...
17. Sorrow of Departure Red lotus incense fades on The jeweled curtain. Autumn Comes again. Gently I open My silk dress and float alone On the orchid boat. Who can Take a letter beyond the clouds? Only the wild geese come back And write their ideograms On the sky under the full Moon that floods the West Chamber. Flowers, […]...
18. My Will I’ve made my Will. I don’t believe In luxury and wealth; And to those loving ones who grieve My age and frailing health I give the meed to soothe their ways That they may happy be, And pass serenely all their days In snug security. That duty done, I leave behind The all I have […]...
19. APRIL TELL me, eyes, what ’tis ye’re seeking; For ye’re saying something sweet, Fit the ravish’d ear to greet, Eloquently, softly speaking. Yet I see now why ye’re roving; For behind those eyes so bright, To itself abandon’d quite, Lies a bosom, truthful, loving, One that it must fill with pleasure ‘Mongst so many, dull and […]...
20. The Merry Maid OH, I am grown so free from care Since my heart broke! I set my throat against the air, I laugh at simple folk! There’s little kind and little fair Is worth its weight in smoke To me, that’s grown so free from care Since my heart broke! Lass, if to sleep you would repair […]...
21. Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow’s form, form happy show To the clear […]...
22. Sonnet XLIII When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright are bright in dark directed. Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright, How would thy shadow’s form form happy show To the clear […]...
23. Irish Love Song Well, if the thing is over, better it is for me, The lad was ever a rover, loving and laughing free, Far too clever a lover not to be having still A lass in the town and a lass by the road and a lass by the farther hill Love on the field and love […]...
24. Blind Bartimeus Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits; He hears the crowd; he hears a breath Say, “It is Christ of Nazareth!” And calls, in tones of agony, The thronging multitudes increase; Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace! But still, above the noisy crowd, The beggar’s cry is shrill and loud; Until they say, […]...
25. 536. Song-This is no my ain lassie Chorus-This is no my ain lassie, Fair tho, the lassie be; Weel ken I my ain lassie, Kind love is in her e’re. I SEE a form, I see a face, Ye weel may wi’ the fairest place; It wants, to me, the witching grace, The kind love that’s in her e’e. This is no […]...
26. Two Blind Men Two blind men met. Said one: “This earth Has been a blackout from my birth. Through darkness I have groped my way, Forlorn, unknowing night from day. But you – though War destroyed your sight, Still have your memories of Light, And to allay your present pain Can live your golden youth again.” Then said […]...
27. Sonnet XLVIII: Cupid, I Hate Thee Cupid, I hate thee, which I’d have thee know; A naked starveling ever may’st thou be. Poor rogue, go pawn thy fascia and thy bow For some few rags wherewith to cover thee. Or, if thou’lt not, thy archery forbear, To some base rustic do thyself prefer, And when corn’s sown or grown into the […]...
28. Rose Leaves When they shall close my careless eyes And look their last upon my face, I fear that some will say: “her lies A man of deep disgrace; His thoughts were bare, his words were brittle, He dreamed so much, he did so little. When they shall seal y coffin lid And this worn mask I […]...
29. Sonnet III THe souerayne beauty which I doo admyre, Witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed: The light wherof hath kindled heauenly iyre, In my fraile spirit by her from basenesse raysed. That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view: But looking still on her I stand […]...
30. Amoretti III: The Sovereign Beauty The sovereign beauty which I do admire, Witness the world how worthy to be praised: The light whereof hath kindled heavenly fire In my frail spirit, by her from baseness raised; That being now with her huge brightness dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view; But looking still on her, I stand […]...
31. To His Sister Loving Sister: every line Of your last letter was so fine With the best mettle, that the grayne Of Scrivener’s pindust were but vayne: The touch of Gold did sure instill Some vertue more than did the Quill. And since you write noe cleanly hand Your token bids mee understand Mine eyes have here a […]...
32. Escape Tell me, Tramp, where I may go To be free from human woe; Say where I may hope to find Ease of heart and peace of mind; Is thee not some isle you know Where I may leave Care behind? So spoke one is sore distress, And I answered softly: “Yes, There’s an isle so […]...
33. Spanish Peasant We have no aspiration vain For paradise Utopian, And here in our sun-happy Spain, Though man exploit his fellow man, To high constraint we humbly yield, And turn from politics to toil, Content to till a kindly field And bring forth bounty from the soil. They tell us wars will never cease; They sy the […]...
34. A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You […]...
35. A few kind words A few kind words, what can be bought with that? In essence just a clique of tidy prose, A verb, a noun, perhaps an adjectival phrase Offered in the form of venal praise – and be surprised at what it buys. Like a fleeting smile it’s currency outweighs The simple form, a hint of urbane […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. 340. Song-Thou Fair Eliza TURN again, thou fair Eliza! Ae kind blink before we part; Rue on thy despairing lover, Can’st thou break his faithfu’ heart? Turn again, thou fair Eliza! If to love thy heart denies, Oh, in pity hide the sentence Under friendship’s kind disguise! Thee, sweet maid, hae I offended? My offence is loving thee; Can’st […]...
38. Intrusion After I had cut off my hands And grown new ones Something my former hands had longed for Came and asked to be rocked. After my plucked out eyes Had withered, and new ones grown Something my former eyes had wept for Came asking to be pitied....
39. A Pretty Woman I That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers, And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of hers! II To think men cannot take you, Sweet, And enfold you, Ay, and hold you, And so keep you what they make you, Sweet! III You like us for a glance, you know – For […]...
40. Sonnet CXLVIII O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be […]...