The Lake

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1. The Lake In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less- So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that towered around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, […]...
2. The Mountain And The Lake I know a mountain thrilling to the stars, Peerless and pure, and pinnacled with snow; Glimpsing the golden dawn o’er coral bars, Flaunting the vanisht sunset’s garnet glow; Proudly patrician, passionless, serene; Soaring in silvered steeps where cloud-surfs break; Virgin and vestal Oh, a very Queen! And at her feet there dreams a quiet lake. […]...
3. Luna Lake Haiku New moon on the lake. Your voice and the nightingale Serenade springtime. Full moon on the lake. Your voice and the waterbirds Celebrate summer. Old moon on the lake. Owls hunting autumnal food – Your voice still singing....
4. The power of the Lake The power of the Lake lingers still So many years beyond its fascination Ending; it was there in the beginning, An unveiling of towering sensitivities, A flowering of gentle obsession. The town that grew in the lee Of the Lake expressed the same Thoughts although hard head bastards Bartered and fought for land, Trying to […]...
5. Lake Maidenly lake, fathomless lake, Stay as you were once, overgrown with rushes, Idling with a reflected cloud, for my sake Whom your shore no longer touches. Your girl was always real to me. Her bones lie in a city by the sea. Everything occurs too normally. A unique love simply wears away. Girl, hey, girl, […]...
6. The Lake Isle Of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils […]...
7. At the Lake Pavilion Small barge go to meet honoured guest Leisurely lake on come At railing face cup alcohol On all sides lotus bloom On a skiff I meet an honoured guest, Slowly, slowly, it comes across the lake. Facing at the railing, we drink a cup of wine, On all sides, lotus flowers are in bloom....
8. I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake I wish I was by that dim Lake, Where sinful souls their farewell take Of this vain world, and half-way lie In death’s cold shadow, ere they die. There, there, far from thee, Deceitful world, my home should be; Where, come what might of gloom and pain, False hope should n’er deceive again. The lifeless […]...
9. By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore By that Lake, whose gloomy shore Sky-lark never warbles o’er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. “Here, at least,” he calmly said, “Woman ne’er shall find my bed.” Ah! the good Saint little knew What that wily sex can do. ‘Twas from Kathleen’s eyes he flew Eyes of […]...
10. Lake Otamangakau I The roaring of Te Whaiau intake weir Intrudes as sleep eludes again To soar across the lake On white-tipped, swan-wide wings. A defiant wild cat’s call, a tuneless howl That crashes through these nylon walls Which stem the thrust of night, Comes taunting in and curdles dreams, Itching in the seams of somnolence. II […]...
11. ON THE LAKE [Written on the occasion of Goethe’s starting With his friend Passavant on a Swiss Tour.] I DRINK fresh nourishment, new blood From out this world more free; The Nature is so kind and good That to her breast clasps me! The billows toss our bark on high, And with our oars keep time, While cloudy […]...
12. Dream Song 101: A shallow lake, with many waterbirds A shallow lake, with many waterbirds, Especially egrets: I was showing Mother around, An extraordinary vivid dream Of Betty & Douglass, and Don—his mother’s estate Was on the grounds of a lunatic asylum. He showed me around. A policeman trundled a siren up the walk. It was 6:05 p. m., Don was late home. I […]...
13. A Lake And A Fairy Boat A lake and a fairy boat To sail in the moonlight clear, – And merrily we would float From the dragons that watch us here! Thy gown should be snow-white silk And strings of oriental pearls, Like gossamers dipped in milk, Should twine with thy raven curls! Red rubies should deck thy hands, And diamonds […]...
14. Sonnet to Lake Leman Rousseau Voltaire our Gibbon De Staлl Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore, Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more, Their memory thy remembrance would recall: To them thy banks were lovely as to all, But they have made them lovelier, for the lore Of mighty minds doth hallow in the […]...
15. Trinity Place THE GRAVE of Alexander Hamilton is in Trinity yard at the end of Wall Street. The grave of Robert Fulton likewise is in Trinity yard where Wall Street stops. And in this yard stenogs, bundle boys, scrubwomen, sit on the tombstones, and walk on the grass of graves, speaking of war and weather, of babies, […]...
16. The Mound by the Lake The grass shall never forget this grave. When homeward footing it in the sun After the weary ride by rail, The stripling soldiers passed her door, Wounded perchance, or wan and pale, She left her household work undone – Duly the wayside table spread, With evergreens shaded, to regale Each travel-spent and grateful one. So […]...
17. Night Hymns on Lake Nipigon Here in the midnight, where the dark mainland and island Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, profounder, Sing we the hymns of the churches, while the dead water Whispers before us. Thunder is travelling slow on the path of the lightning; One after one the stars and the beaming planets Look serene in the lake from […]...
18. Service of all the Dead Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices Of linen, go the chaunting choristers, The priests in gold and black, the villagers. And all along the path to the cemetery The round, dark heads of men crowd silently And black-scarved faces of women-folk, wistfully Watch at the banner of death, and […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. Dark August So much rain, so much life like the swollen sky Of this black August. My sister, the sun, Broods in her yellow room and won’t come out. Everything goes to hell; the mountains fume Like a kettle, rivers overrun; still, She will not rise and turn off the rain. She is in her room, fondling […]...
21. Afternoon Rain in State Street Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls, Slant lines of black rain In front of the up and down, wet stone sides of buildings. Below, Greasy, shiny, black, horizontal, The street. And over it, umbrellas, Black polished dots Struck to white An instant, Stream in two flat lines Slipping past each other with the smoothness of […]...
22. Mayakovsky In New York: A Found Poem New York: You take a train that rips through versts. It feels as if the trains were running over your ears. For many hours the train flies along the banks Of the Hudson about two feet from the water. At the stops, Passengers run out, buy up bunches of celery, And run back in, chewing […]...
23. By The Lake ACROSS the flat and the pastel snow Two people go. . . . ‘And do you remember When last we wandered this shore?’ . . . ‘Ah no! For it is cold-hearted December.’ ‘Dead, the leaves that like asses’s ears hung on the trees When last we wandered and squandered joy here; Now Midas your […]...
24. Come Into The Garden, Maud Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, Night, has flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the roses blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint […]...
25. She Weeps over Rahoon Rain on Rahoon falls softly, softly falling, Where my dark lover lies. Sad is his voice that calls me, sadly calling, At grey moonrise. Love, hear thou How soft, how sad his voice is ever calling, Ever unanswered, and the dark rain falling, Then as now. Dark too our hearts, O love, shall lie and […]...
26. A Poem For Myself (or Blues for a Mississippi Black Boy) I was born in Mississippi; I walked barefooted thru the mud. Born black in Mississippi, Walked barefooted thru the mud. But, when I reached the age of twelve I left that place for good. My daddy chopped cotton And he drank his liquor straight. Said my daddy chopped […]...
27. Consummation Of Grief I even hear the mountains The way they laugh Up and down their blue sides And down in the water The fish cry And the water Is their tears. I listen to the water On nights I drink away And the sadness becomes so great I hear it in my clock It becomes knobs upon […]...
28. The Initiate St. John of the Cross wore dark glasses As he passed me on the street. St. Theresa of Avila, beautiful and grave, Turned her back on me. “Soulmate,” they hissed. “It’s high time.” I was a blind child, a wind-up toy. . . I was one of death’s juggling red balls On a certain street […]...
29. Rain Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: […]...
30. Half The People In The World Half the people in the world love the other half, half the people hate the other half. Must I because of this half and that half go wandering and changing ceaselessly like rain in its cycle, must I sleep among rocks, and grow rugged like the trunks of olive trees, And hear the moon barking […]...
31. Death Of The Kapowsin Tavern I can’t ridge it back again from char. Not one board left. Only ash a cat explores And shattered glass smoked black and strung About from the explosion I believe In the reports. The white school up for sale For years, most homes abandoned to the rocks Of passing boys the fire, helped by wind […]...
32. Passers-By PASSERS-BY, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks Where your shoe soles traveled And your voices rose and blend To form the city’s afternoon roar Hindering an old silence. Passers-by, I remember lean ones among you, Throats in the clutch of a hope, Lips […]...
33. The Lake Isle O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves, Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop, With the little bright boxes Piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragment cavendish And the shag, And the bright Virginia Loose under the bright glass cases, And a pair of scales Not […]...
34. By the Lake The old fellow from Shao-ling weeps with stifled sobs as he walks furtively by the bends of the Sepentine on a day in spring. In The waterside palaces the thousands of doors are locked. For whom have the willows and rushed put on their fresh greenery? I remember how formerly, when the Emperor’s rainbow banner […]...
35. Flophouse you haven’t lived Until you’ve been in a Flophouse With nothing but one Light bulb And 56 men Squeezed together On cots With everybody Snoring At once And some of those Snores So Deep and Gross and Unbelievable- Dark Snotty Gross Subhuman Wheezings From hell Itself. Your mind Almost breaks Under those Death-like Sounds And […]...
36. Duello A Frenchman and an Englishman Resolved to fight a duel, And hit upon a savage plan, Because their hate was cruel. They each would fire a single shot In room of darkness pitchy, And who was killed and who was not Would hang on fingers twitchy. The room was bare and dark as death, And […]...
37. Acquainted With the Night I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped […]...
38. Girl (three) and the black horse i want to hold the horse’s string Cried the girl (three) stamping her foot Told by adults she was much too young The black horse stood staring at the wall It worries us you may get hurt The adults whispered – meaning to offer Comfort to the little madam (not convinced) The black horse stood […]...
39. The Blood-Red Fourragere What was the blackest sight to me Of all that campaign? A naked woman tied to a tree With jagged holes where her breasts should be, Rotting there in the rain. On we pressed to the battle fray, Dogged and dour and spent. Sudden I heard my Captain say: “Voilà! Kultur has passed this way, […]...
40. Horses and Men in Rain LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window, And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys. Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches-and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks. […]...