Love's Reality

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all; What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call; All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more. Then if for my love, thou my love receivest, I cannot blame thee, for my love thou […]...
2. Two Loves One said; “Lo, I would walk hand-clasped with thee Adown the ways of joy and sunlit slopes Of earthly song in happiest vagrancy To pluck the blossom of a thousand hopes. Let us together drain the wide world’s cup With gladness brimméd up!” And one said, “I would pray to go with thee When sorrow […]...
3. An ODE ARise my Dove, from mid’st of Pots arise, Thy sully’d Habitation leave, To Dust no longer cleave, Unworthy they of Heaven that will not view the Skies. [Page 83] Thy native Beauty re-assume, Prune each neglected Plume, Till more than Silver white, Then burnisht Gold more bright, Thus ever ready stand to take thy Eternal […]...
4. When A Woman Loves A Man When she says Margarita she means Daiquiri. When she says quixotic she means mercurial. And when she says, “I’ll never speak to you again,” She means, “Put your arms around me from behind As I stand disconsolate at the window.” He’s supposed to know that. When a man loves a woman he is in New […]...
5. Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? ‘Tis but as a dead […]...
6. He Loves Me That God should love me is more wonderful Than that I so imperfectly love him. My reason is mortality, and dim Senses; his oh, insupportable Is that he sees me. Even when I pull Dark thoughts about my head, each vein and limb Delights him, though remembrance in him, grim With my worst crimes, should […]...
7. Portrait and Reality If on the closed curtain of my sight My fancy paints thy portrait far away, I see thee still the same, by night or day; Crossing the crowded street, or moving bright ‘Mid festal throngs, or reading by the light Of shaded lamp some friendly poet’s lay, Or shepherding the children at their play, The […]...
8. Alciphron and Leucippe An ancient chestnut’s blossoms threw Their heavy odour over two: Leucippe, it is said, was one; The other, then, was Alciphron. ‘Come, come! why should we stand beneath?’ This hollow tree’s unwholesome breath?’ Said Alciphron, ‘here’s not a blade Of grass or moss, and scanty shade. Come; it is just the hour to rove In […]...
9. My Garden The world is sadly sick, they say, And plagued by woe and pain. But look! How looms my garden gay, With blooms in golden reign! With lyric music in the air, Of joy fulfilled in song, I can’t believe that anywhere Is hate and harm and wrong. A paradise my garden is, And there my […]...
10. Praise for the Fountain Opened (Zecheriah, xiii.1) There is a fountain fill’d with blood, Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And there have I, as vile as he, Wash’d all my sins away. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall […]...
11. Choose your obsessions Choose your obsessions For they are unworthy possessions Trojan horses They bind you Without you realizing They hinder your natural design And make you completely blind Choose your obsessions For they are unworthy possessions; They are the weeds, You; yourself choose to grow. Some seeds are rotten.. Still you keep them, them, you don’t throw. […]...
12. Youth and Love What does youth know of love? Little enough, I trow! He plucks the myrtle for his brow, For his forehead the rose. Nay, but of love It is not youth who knows....
13. Sends the wrong message What’s in a song John (or is it ‘Knuckles’), what’s In a song about an unemployed, suicidal bum, caught In the act of sheep theft which defines the Australian Psyche? I’ll bet you don’t know but whatever it is Is good enough for you to decide what is, or is not, Appropriate for a team […]...
14. Because He loves Her Because He loves Her We will pry and see if she is fair What difference is on her Face From Features others wear. It will not harm her magic pace That we so far behind Her Distances propitiate As Forests touch the Wind Not hoping for his notice vast But nearer to adore ‘Tis Glory’s […]...
15. The Skyscraper Loves Night ONE by one lights of a skyscraper fling their checkering cross work on the velvet gown of night. I believe the skyscraper loves night as a woman and brings her playthings she asks for, brings her a velvet gown, And loves the white of her shoulders hidden under the dark feel of it all. The […]...
16. Sonnet 144: Two loves I have, of comfort and despair Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill. To win me soon to hell, my female evil Tempteth my better angel from my side, And would corrupt my saint to be a […]...
17. On The Late Indecent Liberties Taken With The Remains Of Milton “Me too, perchance, in future days, The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays Parnassian on my brow. But I, or e’er that season come, Escaped from every care, Shall reach my refuge in the tomb, And sleep securely there.” So sang, in Roman tone and style, The youthful bard, ere long […]...
18. Psalm 9 part 1 Wrath and mercy from the judgment-seat. With my whole heart I’ll raise my song, Thy wonders I’ll proclaim; Thou, sovereign Judge of right and wrong, Wilt put my foes to shame. I’ll sing thy majesty and grace; My God prepares his throne To judge the world in righteousness, And make his vengeance known. Then shall […]...
19. The Crazy Woman I shall not sing a May song. A May song should be gay. I’ll wait until November And sing a song of gray. I’ll wait until November That is the time for me. I’ll go out in the frosty dark And sing most terribly. And all the little people Will stare at me and say, […]...
20. My Soul Thirsteth for God I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to share; Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures there. It was the sight of Thy dear cross First wean’d my soul from earthly things; And taught me to esteem as dross The mirth of fools and pomp […]...
21. Fulfilment I sing of starry dreams come true, Of hopes fulfilled; Of rich reward beyond my due, Of harvest milled. The full fruition of the years Is mine to hold, And in despite of toil and tears The sun is gold. I have no hate for any one On this good earth; My days of hardihood […]...
22. Sweetness Of The Decent Night They talked to me again today, they spoke in gentle tones And said the things I ought to hear then lead me where The frangipani flowered; they said the heady scent was meant To soothe the wicked wounds I wore, to ease the twisted scars That tore my inner peace. The power was overwhelming and […]...
23. Hymn to Aristogeiton and Harmodius Wreathed in myrtle, my sword I’ll conceal Like those champions devoted and brave, When they plunged in the tyrant their steel, And to Athens deliverance gave. Beloved heroes! your deathless souls roam In the joy breathing isles of the blest; Where the mighty of old have their home – Where Achilles and Diomed rest. In […]...
24. 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; […]...
25. TO THE SURVIVORS NOW they sing the hero loud; But they sing him in his shroud. Torch he kindled for his land; On his brow ye set its brand. Taught by him to wield a glaive; Through his heart the steel ye drave. Trolls he smote in hard-fought fields; Ye bore him down ‘twixt traitor shields. But the […]...
26. Palanquin Bearers Lightly, O lightly we bear her along, She sways like a flower in the wind of our song; She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream, She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream. Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing, We bear her along like a pearl […]...
27. The Instinct Of Hope Is there another world for this frail dust To warm with life and be itself again? Something about me daily speaks there must, And why should instinct nourish hopes in vain? ‘Tis nature’s prophesy that such will be, And everything seems struggling to explain The close sealed volume of its mystery. Time wandering onward keeps […]...
28. Parting He. Dear, I must be gone While night Shuts the eyes Of the household spies; That song announces dawn. She. No, night’s bird and love’s Bids all true lovers rest, While his loud song reproves The murderous stealth of day. He. Daylight already flies From mountain crest to crest She. That light is from the […]...
29. A Singer of the Bush There is waving of grass in the breeze And a song in the air, And a murmur of myriad bees That toil everywhere. There is scent in the blossom and bough, And the breath of the Spring Is as soft as a kiss on a brow And Spring-time I sing. There is drought on the […]...
30. Is there any reward? Is there any reward? I’m beginning to doubt it. I am broken and bored, Is there any reward Reassure me, Good Lord, And inform me about it. Is there any reward? I’m beginning to doubt it....
31. Cheer It’s a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass, When even the worst is said. There’s a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer, But better be living than dead; A joy and a pain, a loss and a gain; There’s honey and may be some gall: Yet still I declare, foul […]...
32. In the Street Where the needle-woman toils Through the night with hand and brain, Till the sickly daylight shudders like a spectre at the pain – Till her eyes seem to crawl, And her brain seems to creep – And her limbs are all a-tremble for the want of rest and sleep! It is there the fire-brand blazes […]...
33. To My Inconstant Mistress When thou, poor excommunicate From all the joys of love, shalt see The full reward and glorious fate Which my strong faith shall purchase me, Then curse thine own inconstancy. A fairer hand than thine shall cure That heart which thy false oaths did wound; And to my soul a soul more pure Than thine […]...
34. GARAGE SALE I sold her bed for a song. A song of yearning like an orphan’s. Or the one knives carve into bread. But the un-broken bread Song too. For the song that rivers Sing to the ferryman’s oars. With that dread in it. For a threadbare tune: garroted, Chest-choked, cheap. A sparrow’s, beggar’s, a foghorn’s call. […]...
35. A Minor Bird I have wished a bird would fly away, And not sing by my house all day; Have clapped my hands at him from the door When it seemed as if I could bear no more. The fault must partly have been in me. The bird was not to blame for his key. And of course […]...
36. Chanson Un Peu Naïve What body can be ploughed, Sown, and broken yearly? But she would not die, she vowed, But she has, nearly. Sing, heart sing; Call and carol clearly. And, since she could not die, Care would be a feather, A film over the eye Of two that lie together. Fly, song, fly, Break your little tether. […]...
37. Sonnet X: To Nothing Fitter To nothing fitter can I thee compare Than to the son of some rich penny-father, Who, having now brought on his end with care, Leaves to his son all he had heap’d together; This new rich novice, lavish of his chest, To one man gives, doth on another spend, Then here he riots, yet among […]...
38. Hymn 81 A song for morning or evening. Lam. 3:23; Isa. 45:7. God, how endless is thy love! Thy gifts are every evening new; And morning mercies from above Gently distill like early dew. Thou spread’st the curtains of the night, Great guardian of my sleeping hours; Thy sovereign word restores the light, And quickens all my […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Sonnet III: To a Nightingale Poor melancholy bird – that all night long Tell’st to the Moon, thy tale of tender woe; From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow, And whence this mournful melody of song? Thy poet’s musing fancy would translate What mean the sounds that swell thy little breast, When still at dewy eve thou leav’st […]...