The First Thrush

Related poetry:

1. The Hermit Thrush O wonderful! How liquid clear The molten gold of that ethereal tone, Floating and falling through the wood alone, A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear! 0 holy, holy, holy! Hyaline, Long light, low light, glory of eventide! Love far away, far up. up, love divine! Little love, too, for ever, ever, near, Warm […]...
2. A Hermit Thrush Nothing’s certain. Crossing, on this longest day, The low-tide-uncovered isthmus, scrambling up The scree-slope of what at high tide Will be again an island, To where, a decade since well-being staked The slender, unpremeditated claim that brings us Back, year after year, lugging the Makings of another picnic- The cucumber sandwiches, the sea-air-sanctified Fig newtons-there’s […]...
3. The Spider “Oh, look at that great ugly spider!” said Ann; And screaming, she brush’d it away with her fan; “‘Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be, I wish that it would not come crawling on me. ” “Indeed,” said her mother, “I’ll venture to say, The poor thing will try to keep out of […]...
4. The Caged Thrush Freed and Home Again (Villanelle) “Men know but little more than we, Who count us least of things terrene, How happy days are made to be! “Of such strange tidings what think ye, O birds in brown that peck and preen? Men know but little more than we! “When I was borne from yonder tree In bonds to them, I […]...
5. The Spider and the Ghost of the Fly Once I loved a spider When I was born a fly, A velvet-footed spider With a gown of rainbow-dye. She ate my wings and gloated. She bound me with a hair. She drove me to her parlor Above her winding stair. To educate young spiders She took me all apart. My ghost came back to […]...
6. Identity 1) An individual spider web Identifies a species: An order of instinct prevails through all accidents of circumstance, though possibility is High along the peripheries of Spider webs: you can go all around the fringing attachments and find Disorder ripe, Entropy rich, high levels of random, numerous occasions of accident: 2) the possible settings Of […]...
7. Death Wants More Death death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father’s garage, how child-like I would brush the corpses of flies From the windows they thought were escape- Their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies Shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass Only to spin and flit In that second larger than hell or […]...
8. The Truth of Woman Woman’s faith, and woman’s trust – Write the characters in the dust; Stamp them on the running stream, Print them on the moon’s pale beam, And each evanescent letter Shall be clearer, firmer, better, And more permanent, I ween, Than the thing those letters mean. I have strain’d the spider’s thread ‘Gainst the promise of […]...
9. Waikiki Warm perfumes like a breath from vine and tree Drift down the darkness. Plangent, hidden from eyes Somewhere an ‘eukaleli’ thrills and cries And stabs with pain the night’s brown savagery. And dark scents whisper; and dim waves creep to me, Gleam like a woman’s hair, stretch out, and rise; And new stars burn into […]...
10. For A Picture Of St. Dorothea I bear a basket lined with grass; I am so light, I am so fair, That men must wonder as I pass And at the basket that I bear, Where in a newly-drawn green litter Sweet flowers I carry, sweets for bitter. Lilies I shew you, lilies none, None in Caesar’s gardens blow, And a […]...
11. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
12. Malade The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window The tassel of the blind swings gently, tapping the pane, As a little wind comes in. The room is the hollow rind of a fruit, a gourd Scooped out and dry, where a spider, Folded in its legs as in a […]...
13. Settling I was welcomed here-clear gold Of late summer, of opening autumn, The dawn eagle sunning himself on the highest tree, The mountain revealing herself unclouded, her snow Tinted apricot as she looked west, Tolerant, in her steadfastness, of the restless sun Forever rising and setting. Now I am given A taste of the grey foretold […]...
14. Ditty (E. L. G.) BENEATH a knap where flown Nestlings play, Within walls of weathered stone, Far away From the files of formal houses, By the bough the firstling browses, Lives a Sweet: no merchants meet, No man barters, no man sells Where she dwells. Upon that fabric fair “Here is she!” Seems written everywhere Unto […]...
15. The Thrush's Nest Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush That overhung a molehill large and round, I heard from morn to morn a merry thrush Sing hymns to sunrise, and I drank the sound With joy; and often, an intruding guest, I watched her secret toil from day to day- How true she warped the moss to […]...
16. The Darkling Thrush I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land’s sharp features seemed to be The Century’s corpse outleant, His crypt […]...
17. Sanary Her little hot room looked over the bay Through a stiff palisade of glinting palms, And there she would lie in the heat of the day, Her dark head resting upon her arms, So quiet, so still, she did not seem To think, to feel, or even to dream. The shimmering, blinding web of sea […]...
18. Leaves Compared With Flowers A tree’s leaves may be ever so good, So may its bar, so may its wood; But unless you put the right thing to its root It never will show much flower or fruit. But I may be one who does not care Ever to have tree bloom or bear. Leaves for smooth and bark […]...
19. Gold Leaves Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out The year and I are old. In youth I sought the prince of men, Captain in cosmic wars, Our Titan, even the weeds would show Defiant, to the stars. But now a great thing in the […]...
20. Lament Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun, Those crags in childhood that I used to climb? Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain, Hidden is the heart. A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between, Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream, Gone are the rocky places and the green, Hidden, […]...
21. A Ballad of Dreamland I hid my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun’s way, hidden apart; In a softer bed then the soft white snow’s is, Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? why should it start, When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred? What made sleep flutter his […]...
22. The bouncing spider schnyder schnyder The bouncing spider Had a song Wound up inside her She’d had it taped On a silken spool This was the song She sang as a rule O little fly Come be my friend I have fly’s gold For you to spend I’ll wrap you in silks To make you pretty If you […]...
23. As in a Dream To the melody of “Ru Meng Lin” Last night in the light rain as rough winds blew, My drunken sleep left me no merrier. I question one that raised the curtain, who Replies: “The wild quince trees are as they were.” But no, but no! Their rose is waning, and their green leaves grow....
24. In Praise Of Henna A KOKILA called from a henna-spray: Lira! liree! Lira! liree! Hasten, maidens, hasten away To gather the leaves of the henna-tree. Send your pitchers afloat on the tide, Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old, Grind them in mortars of amber and gold, The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree. A kokila called from […]...
25. Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes, For they in thee a thousand errors note; But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise, Who in despite of view is pleased to dote. Nor are mine cars with thy tongue’s tune delighted, Nor tender feeling to base touches prone, Nor taste, nor […]...
26. The Dependencies This morning, between two branches of a tree Beside the door, epeira once again Has spun and signed his tapestry and trap. I test his early-warning system and It works, he scrambles forth in sable with The yellow hieroglyph that no one knows The meaning of. And I remember now How yesterday at dusk the […]...
27. Wonder is not precisely Knowing Wonder is not precisely Knowing And not precisely Knowing not A beautiful but bleak condition He has not lived who has not felt Suspense is his maturer Sister Whether Adult Delight is Pain Or of itself a new misgiving This is the Gnat that mangles men...
28. 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 […]...
29. The Scrutiny Why should you swear I am forsworn, Since thine I vowed to be? Lady, it is already morn, And ’twas last night I swore to thee That fond impossibility. Have I not loved thee much and long, A tedious twelve hours’ space? I must all other beauties wrong, And rob thee of a new embrace, […]...
30. Fergus And The Druid Fergus. This whole day have I followed in the rocks, And you have changed and flowed from shape to shape, First as a raven on whose ancient wings Scarcely a feather lingered, then you seemed A weasel moving on from stone to stone, And now at last you wear a human shape, A thin grey […]...
31. Santa Decca The Gods are dead: no longer do we bring To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves! Demeter’s child no more hath tithe of sheaves, And in the noon the careless shepherds sing, For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning By secret glade and devious haunt is o’er: Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more; Great […]...
32. Son He hurried away, young heart of joy, under our Devon sky! And I watched him go, my beautiful boy, and a weary woman was I. For my hair is grey, and his was gold; he’d the best of his life to live; And I’d loved him so, and I’m old, I’m old; and he’s all […]...
33. TO MIGNON OVER vale and torrent far Rolls along the sun’s bright car. Ah! he wakens in his course Mine, as thy deep-seated smart In the heart. Ev’ry morning with new force. Scarce avails night aught to me; E’en the visions that I see Come but in a mournful guise; And I feel this silent smart In […]...
34. A Seed See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down, And through the Winter neglected lay, Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown, With tiny root taking hold on the clay As, lifting and strengthening day by day, It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves, And cell after cell the Power in it weaves Out of […]...
35. TO GROVES Ye silent shades, whose each tree here Some relique of a saint doth wear; Who for some sweet-heart’s sake, did prove The fire and martyrdom of Love: Here is the legend of those saints That died for love, and their complaints; Their wounded hearts, and names we find Encarved upon the leaves and rind. Give […]...
36. Only Dreams A maiden sat in teh sunset glow Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ago, That we see through a mist of tears. She sat and dreamed, with lips apart, With thoughtful eyes and a beating heart, Of the mystical future years; And brighter far than the sunset skies Was the vision seen by the maiden’s eyes. […]...
37. Town and Country Here, where love’s stuff is body, arm and side Are stabbing-sweet ‘gainst chair and lamp and wall. In every touch more intimate meanings hide; And flaming brains are the white heart of all. Here, million pulses to one centre beat: Closed in by men’s vast friendliness, alone, Two can be drunk with solitude, and meet […]...
38. Trees In The Garden Ah in the thunder air How still the trees are! And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent Hardly looses even a last breath of perfume. And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves White, ivory white among the rambling greens How evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass As if, […]...
39. "In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth – Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? – Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth? – The beady spider, the flower like […]...
40. XVII (I do not love you…) I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms But carries in itself the light […]...