Dear Deborah

Related poetry:

1. Deborah's Parrot, a Village Tale ‘Twas in a little western town An ancient Maiden dwelt: Her name was MISS, or MISTRESS, Brown, Or DEBORAH, or DEBBY: She Was doom’d a Spinster pure to be, For soft delights her breast ne’er felt: Yet, she had watchful Ears and Eyes For ev’ry youthful neighbour, And never did she cease to labour A […]...
2. Portrait (For S. A.)TO write one book in five years Or five books in one year, To be the painter and the thing painted, … where are we, bo? Wait-get his number. The barber shop handling is here And the tweeds, the cheviot, the Scotch Mist, And the flame orange scarf. Yet there is more-he sleeps […]...
3. Dear Colette Dear Colette, I want to write to you About being a woman For that is what you write to me. I want to tell you how your face Enduring after thirty, forty, fifty. . . Hangs above my desk Like my own muse. I want to tell you how your hands Reach out from your […]...
4. Kreisler SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached with passion clutching the knees and arms of a storm. Sell me horsehair and rosin that has sucked at the breasts […]...
5. THE INNOCENT EYE I struggled through streets of Bricked-up, boarded-up houses, Mostly burned-out, keeping To the middle of the road, Watching the abandoned gardens With here and there a house Still lived in, curtained Against the daylight and distantly I saw the iron railings of the school I’d taught in thirty years before. The same brick buildings, hop […]...
6. Thirty-nine O hapless day! O wretched day! I hoped you’d pass me by Alas, the years have sneaked away And all is changed but I! Had I the power, I would remand You to a gloom condign, But here you’ve crept upon me and I I am thirty-nine! Now, were I thirty-five, I could Assume a […]...
7. At a Poetry Party I Am Given the Rhyme Chih Although I’ve studied poetry for thirty years I try to keep my mouth shut and avoid reputation. Now who is this nosy gentleman talking about my poetry Like Yang Ching-chih Who spoke of Hsiang Ssu everywhere he went....
8. Little-oh dear See, what a wonderful garden is here, Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear! Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown – Search ye the country and hunt ye the town And never ye’ll meet with a garden so queer As this one I’ve made for my Little-Oh-Dear! Marigolds white and buttercups blue, Lilies all […]...
9. On that dear Frame the Years had worn On that dear Frame the Years had worn Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Light The Witnessing, to Us Precious! It was conceiveless fair As Hands the Grave had grimed Should softly place within our own Denying that they died....
10. Christmas Trees (A Christmas Circular Letter) THE CITY had withdrawn into itself And left at last the country to the country; When between whirls of snow not come to lie And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove A stranger to our yard, who looked the city, Yet did in country fashion in that there He […]...
11. THE DESTRUCTION OF MAGDEBURG [For a fine account of the fearful sack of Magdeburg, By Tilly, in the year 1613, see SCHILLER’s History of the Thirty Years’ War.] OH, Magdeberg the town! Fair maids thy beauty crown, Thy charms fair maids and matrons crown; Oh, Magdeburg the town! Where all so blooming stands, Advance fierce Tilly’s bands; O’er gardens […]...
12. Summer Nights Lamoni, Iowa The factory siren tells workers time to go home Tells them the evening has begun. When living with the tall man Whom I didn’t love, I would wander The streets, dreaming of Italy. Trekking the handful of avenues With him, he would say look there Between pink cobblestones, There’s manure like mortar. The […]...
13. Santa Fe In Winter The city is closing for the night. Stores draw their blinds one by one, And it’s dark again, save for the dim Infrequent streetlight bending at the neck Like a weighted stem. Years have built The city in layers: balustrades filled in With brick, adobe reinforced with steel, And the rounded arches smoothed With white […]...
14. The Stranger The Stranger within my gate, He may be true or kind, But he does not talk my talk I cannot feel his mind. I see the face and the eyes and the mouth, But not the soul behind. The men of my own stock, They may do ill or well, But they tell the lies […]...
15. The Proud Lady When Stiivoren town was in its prime And queened the Zuyder Zee, Its ships went out to every clime With costly merchantry. A lady dwelt in that rich town, The fairest in all the land; She walked abroad in a velvet gown, With many rings on her hand. Her hair was bright as the beaten […]...
16. In the Valley of Cauteretz All along the valley, stream that flashest white, Deepening thy voice with the deepening of the night, All along the valley, where thy waters flow, I walk’d with one I loved two and thirty years ago. All along the valley, while I walk’d to-day, The two and thirty years were a mist that rolls away; […]...
17. A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty Unwillingly Miranda wakes, Feels the sun with terror, One unwilling step she takes, Shuddering to the mirror. Miranda in Miranda’s sight Is old and gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty. Shining like the morning star, Like the twilight shining, Haunted by a calendar, Miranda is a-pining. Silly girl, […]...
18. White Hands FOR the second time in a year this lady with the white hands is brought to the west room second floor of a famous sanatorium. Her husband is a cornice manufacturer in an Iowa town and the lady has often read papers on Victorian poets before the local literary club. Yesterday she washed her hands […]...
19. At Bessemer 19 years old and going nowhere, I got a ride to Bessemer and walked The night road toward Birmingham Passing dark groups of men cursing The end of a week like every week. Out of town I found a small grove Of trees, high narrow pines, and I Sat back against the trunk of one […]...
20. Jug THE SHALE and water thrown together so-so first of all, Then a potter’s hand on the wheel and his fingers shaping the jug; out of the mud a mouth and a handle; Slimpsy, loose and ready to fall at a touch, fire plays on it, slow fire coaxing all the water out of the shale […]...
21. Cain and Abel Cain and Abel were brothers born. (Koop-la! Come along, cows!) One raised cattle and one raised corn. (Koop-la! Come along! Co-hoe!) And Cain he farmed by the river-side, So he did not care how much it dried. For he banked, and he sluiced, and he ditched and he led (And the Corn don’t care for […]...
22. Mrs. Merritt Silent before the jury, Returning no word to the judge when he asked me If I had aught to say against the sentence, Only shaking my head. What could I say to people who thought That a woman of thirty-five was at fault When her lover of nineteen killed her husband? Even though she had […]...
23. The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers are swinging, Look overhead! Censers are swinging, Heaven comes down. City, dead city, Awake from the dead! Censers, tremendous, Gleam overhead. Wind-harps are ringing, Wind-harps unseen- Calling and calling:- “Wake from the dead. Rise, little city, Shine like a queen.” Soldiers of […]...
24. No Neck-Tie Party A prisoner speaks: Majority of twenty-three, I face the Judge with joy and glee; For am I not a lucky chap – No more hanging, no more cap; A “lifer,” yes, but well I know In fifteen years they’ll let me go; For I’ll be pious in my prison, Sing with gusto: Christ Is Risen; […]...
25. The Dying need but little, Dear The Dying need but little, Dear, A Glass of Water’s all, A Flower’s unobtrusive Face To punctuate the Wall, A Fan, perhaps, a Friend’s Regret And Certainty that one No color in the Rainbow Perceive, when you are gone....
26. Is it true, dear Sue? Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him! If I could shut him up In a Coffee Cup, Or tie him to a pin Till I got in Or make him fast To “Toby’s” fist Hist! Whist! I’d come!...
27. Dear March Come in Dear March Come in How glad I am I hoped for you before Put down your Hat You must have walked How out of Breath you are Dear March, Come right up the stairs with me I have so much to tell I got your Letter, and the Birds The Maples never knew that you […]...
28. Dear Joanne Dear Joanne, Last night Magda dreamed that she, You, Jack, and I were driving around Italy. We parked in Florence and left Our dog to guard the car. She was worried because he Doesn’t understand Italian....
29. Ourselves were wed one summer dear Ourselves were wed one summer dear Your Vision was in June And when Your little Lifetime failed, I wearied too of mine And overtaken in the Dark Where You had put me down By Some one carrying a Light I too received the Sign. ‘Tis true Our Futures different lay Your Cottage faced the sun […]...
30. 7. Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear AH, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye’ve born me: For sair contention I maun bear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne’er could lend on bill or band, That five per cent. might blest me; And borrowing, on the tither hand, The deil a ane wad trust me. Yet […]...
31. To know just how He suffered would be dear To know just how He suffered would be dear To know if any Human eyes were near To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze Until it settle broad on Paradise To know if He was patient part content Was Dying as He thought or different Was it a pleasant Day to die And did […]...
32. Dear Reader Baudelaire considers you his brother, And Fielding calls out to you every few paragraphs As if to make sure you have not closed the book, And now I am summoning you up again, Attentive ghost, dark silent figure standing In the doorway of these words. Pope welcomes you into the glow of his study, Takes […]...
33. Nellie Clark I was only eight years old; And before I grew up and knew what it meant I had no words for it, except That I was frightened and told my Mother; And that my Father got a pistol And would have killed Charlie, who was a big boy, Fifteen years old, except for his Mother. […]...
34. John Evereldown “Where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are you going, John Evereldown? There’s never the sign of a star in sight, Nor a lamp that’s nearer than Tilbury Town. Why do you stare as a dead man might? Where are you pointing away from the light? And where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are […]...
35. Dear Friends Dear Friends, reproach me not for what I do, Nor counsel me, nor pity me; nor say That I am wearing half my life away For bubble-work that only fools pursue. And if my bubbles be too small for you, Blow bigger then your own: the games we play To fill the frittered minutes of […]...
36. Dear Heart, Why Will You Use Me So? Dear heart, why will you use me so? Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful – but O, How is your beauty raimented! Through the clear mirror of your eyes, Through the soft sigh of kiss to kiss, Desolate winds assail with cries The shadowy garden where love is. And soon shall […]...
37. Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns One charm of feeling, one fond regret; Believe me, a few of thy angry frowns Are all I’ve sunk in its bright wave yet. Ne’er hath a beam Been lost in the stream That ever was shed from thy form or soul; The spell of those […]...
38. How Dear to Me the Hour How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams melt along the silent sea, For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave toward the burning west, I long to tread that […]...
39. 484. Song-Saw you my dear, my Philly O SAW ye my Dear, my Philly? O saw ye my Dear, my Philly, She’s down i’ the grove, she’s wi’ a new Love, She winna come hame to her Willy. What says she my dear, my Philly? What says she my dear, my Philly? She lets thee to wit she has thee forgot, And […]...
40. Dear Harp of my Country Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of Silence had hung o’er thee long. When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song. The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken’d thy fondest, thy […]...