A Hall

Related poetry:

1. Sleeping at last Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over, Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past, Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover, Sleeping at last. No more a tired heart downcast or overcast, No more pangs that wring or shifting fears that hover, Sleeping at last in a dreamless sleep […]...
2. The Embrace You weren’t well or really ill yet either; Just a little tired, your handsomeness Tinged by grief or anticipation, which brought To your face a thoughtful, deepening grace. I didn’t for a moment doubt you were dead. I knew that to be true still, even in the dream. You’d been out-at work maybe?- Having a […]...
3. Locksley Hall Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet ‘t is early morn: Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn. ‘T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call, Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall; Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks […]...
4. Oh Who Is That Young Sinner Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they’re taking him to prison for the color of his hair. ‘Tis a shame to human nature, such a head […]...
5. There was a Child Once There was a child once. He came to play in my garden; He was quite pale and silent. Only when he smiled I knew everything about him, I knew what he had in his pockets, And I knew the feel of his hands in my hands And the most intimate tones of his voice. I […]...
6. Freedom he drank wine all night of the 28th, and he kept thinking of her: The way she walked and talked and loved The way she told him things that seemed true But were not, and he knew the color of each Of her dresses And her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of Each heel […]...
7. Answers I keep my answers small and keep them near; Big questions bruised my mind but still I let Small answers be a bulwark to my fear. The huge abstractions I keep from the light; Small things I handled and caressed and loved. I let the stars assume the whole of night. But the big answers […]...
8. People With Proud Chins I TELL them where the wind comes from, Where the music goes when the fiddle is in the box. Kids-I saw one with a proud chin, a sleepyhead, And the moonline creeping white on her pillow. I have seen their heads in the starlight And their proud chins marching in a mist of stars. They […]...
9. How happy is the little Stone How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity...
10. Dance-Hall Girls Where are the dames I used to know In Dawson in the days of yore? Alas, it’s fifty years ago, And most, I guess, have “gone before.” The swinging scythe is swift to mow Alike the gallant and the fair; And even I, with gouty toe, Am glad to fill a rocking chair. Ah me, […]...
11. Lesson It was 1963 or 4, summer, And my father was driving our family From Ft. Hood to North Carolina in our 56 Buick. We’d been hearing about Klan attacks, and we knew Mississippi to be more dangerous than usual. Dark lay hanging from the trees the way moss did, And when it moaned light against […]...
12. Farewell Address at the Argyle Hall Fellow Citizens of Dundee. I now must bid farewell to ye. For I am going to London far away. But when I will return again I cannot say. Farewell! Farewell! to the bonnie banks o’ the Silvery Tay. Also the beautiful Hill o’ Balgay. And the ill fated Bridge o’ the Silvery Tay. Which I […]...
13. A Christmas Carol, Sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall Chorus. What sweeter music can we bring, Than a Carol, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly King? Awake the Voice! Awake the String! Heart, Ear, and Eye, and every thing Awake! the while the active Finger Runs division with the Singer. From the Flourish they came to the Song. Voice 1: Dark […]...
14. Remorse For Any Death Free of memory and of hope, Limitless, abstract, almost future, The dead man is not a dead man: he is death. Like the God of the mystics, Of Whom anything that could be said must be denied, The dead one, alien everywhere, Is but the ruin and absence of the world. We rob him of […]...
15. Stretcher Case He woke; the clank and racket of the train Kept time with angry throbbings in his brain. Then for a while he lapsed and drowsed again. At last he lifted his bewildered eyes And blinked, and rolled them sidelong; hills and skies, Heavily wooded, hot with August haze, And, slipping backward, golden for his gaze, […]...
16. The house where I was born (04) Another time. It was still night. Water slid Silently on the black ground, And I knew that my only task would be To remember, and I laughed, I bent down, I took from the mud A pile of branches and leaves, I lifted up the whole dripping mass In arms I held close to my […]...
17. To L. H. B. (1894-1915 ) Last night for the first time since you were dead I walked with you, my brother, in a dream. We were at home again beside the stream Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red. “Don’t touch them: they are poisonous,” I said. But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam Of strange, bright […]...
18. Griffy the Cooper The cooper should know about tubs. But I learned about life as well, And you who loiter around these graves Think you know life. You think your eye sweeps about a wide horizon, perhaps, In truth you are only looking around the interior of your tub. You cannot lift yourself to its rim And see […]...
19. A Certain Man A certain man wishes to be a prince Of this earth; he also wants to be A saint and master of the being-world. Conscience cannot exist in the first: The second cannot exist without conscience. Therefore he, who has enough conscience To be disturbed but not enough to be Compelled, can neither reject the one […]...
20. Twilight Song Through the shine, through the rain We have shared the day’s load; To the old march again We have tramped the long road; We have laughed, we have cried, And we’ve tossed the King’s crown; We have fought, we have died, And we’ve trod the day down. So it’s lift the old song Ere the […]...
21. The dreams Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew; One was a dream of the old, old days, And one was a dream of the new. One was a dream of a shady lane That led to the pickerel pond Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves To the […]...
22. Conscience Conscience is instinct bred in the house, Feeling and Thinking propagate the sin By an unnatural breeding in and in. I say, Turn it out doors, Into the moors. I love a life whose plot is simple, And does not thicken with every pimple, A soul so sound no sickly conscience binds it, That makes […]...
23. The Opal Dream Cave In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal […]...
24. Who is now Reading This? WHO is now reading this? May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life, Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me, Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision, Or may-be one who is puzzled at me. As if I […]...
25. Brown Penny I whispered, ‘I am too young,’ And then, ‘I am old enough’; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. ‘Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.’ Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O […]...
26. Memoranda THIS handful of grass, brown, says little. This quarter mile field of it, waving seeds ripening in the sun, is a lake of luminous firefly lavender. Prairie roses, two of them, climb down the sides of a road ditch. In the clear pool they find their faces along stiff knives of grass, and cat-tails who […]...
27. Supremacy There is a drear and lonely tract of hell From all the common gloom removed afar: A flat, sad land it is, where shadows are, Whose lorn estate my verse may never tell. I walked among them and I knew them well: Men I had slandered on life’s little star For churls and sluggards; and […]...
28. In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was sore, Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain, Shared their short-lived comrade’s pain. And bound for the same bourn as I, On every road I wandered by, Trod beside me, close and […]...
29. Assurance Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to […]...
30. The Dream Believe me, this was true last night, Tho’ it is false to-day. A. M. F. Robinson. A fair dream to my chamber flew: Such a crowd of folk that stirred, Jested, fluttered; only you, You alone of all that band, Calm and silent, spake no word. Only once you neared my place, And your hand […]...
31. On A Dead Violet The odor from the flower is gone Which like thy kisses breathed on me; The color from the flower is flown Which glowed of thee and only thee! A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, It lies on my abandoned breast; And mocks the heart, which yet is warm, With cold and silent rest. I weep my […]...
32. Apologia Is it thy will that I should wax and wane, Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day? Is it thy will – Love that I love so well – That my Soul’s House should be a tortured […]...
33. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
34. The Man with the Wooden Leg There was a man lived quite near us; He had a wooden leg and a goldfinch in a green cage. His name was Farkey Anderson, And he’d been in a war to get his leg. We were very sad about him, Because he had such a beautiful smile And was such a big man to […]...
35. A Map Of Love Your face more than others’ faces Maps the half-remembered places I have come to I while I slept- Continents a dream had kept Secret from all waking folk Till to your face I awoke, And remembered then the shore, And the dark interior....
36. Imagining Defeat She woke me up at dawn, Her suitcase like a little brown dog at her heels. I sat up and looked out the window At the snow falling in the stand of blackjack trees. A bus ticket in her hand. Then she brought something black up to her mouth, A plum I thought, but it […]...
37. Do you know who is thinking of you? If you start out every day in the same old gloomy way It’s little wonder what other people think of you, but The ones who matter most are the ones who hold you close In their hearts, who’re always thinking of you; Do you know, do you know, Do you know who is thinking of […]...
38. The Color of the Grave is Green The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite asleep To stop and tell them where it is But just a Daisy deep The Color of the Grave is white […]...
39. The Rhodora On being asked, Whence is the flower? In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods, Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To please the desert and the sluggish brook. The purple petals, fallen in the pool, Made the black water with their beauty gay; Here might […]...
40. Athanasia To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught Of all the great things men have saved from Time, The withered body of a girl was brought Dead ere the world’s glad youth had touched its prime, And seen by lonely Arabs lying hid In the dim womb of some black pyramid. But when […]...