A Poet at Twenty

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1. Twenty Years Hence Twenty years hence my eyes may grow If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall know Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may hap That I be called to take a nap In a cool cell where thunderclap Was never heard, There breathe but o’er my arch of […]...
2. 339. Song-O for ane an' twenty, Tam Chorus.-An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam! And hey, sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! I’ll learn my kin a rattlin’ sang, An’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. THEY snool me sair, and haud me down, An’ gar me look like bluntie, Tam; But three short years will soon wheel roun’, An’ then comes ane […]...
3. Twenty-Four Years Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes. (Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.) In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor Sewing a shroud for a journey By the light of the meat-eating sun. Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun, With my […]...
4. The Poet Words flow onto paper like rain, forming giant rivers Of unseen lands. The very force guides us along a journey That holds of great adventure. We are the explorers of the literary world. We must find the courage to write what Others are unable to, with the greatest Of passion. A poet dreams. and then […]...
5. The Twenty Hoss-Power Shay You have heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day. And then, of a sudden, it up and bust, And all that was left was a mound of dust? Holmes-O. W.-told it well In a rhyme of his-what there was to […]...
6. To A Poet That Died Young Minstrel, what have you to do With this man that, after you, Sharing not your happy fate, Sat as England’s Laureate? Vainly, in these iron days, Strives the poet in your praise, Minstrel, by whose singing side Beauty walked, until you died. Still, though none should hark again, Drones the blue-fly in the pane, Thickly […]...
7. A Poet's Wooing I woo’d a woman once, But she was sharper than an eastern wind. Tennyson “What may I do to make you glad, To make you glad and free, Till your light smiles glance And your bright eyes dance Like sunbeams on the sea? Read some rhyme that is blithe and gay Of a bright May […]...
8. The Poet O hour of my muse: why do you leave me, Wounding me by the wingbeats of your flight? Alone: what shall I use my mouth to utter? How shall I pass my days? And how my nights? I have no one to love. I have no home. There is no center to sustain my life. […]...
9. To a Poet There is a lovely noise about your name, Above the shoutings of the city clear, More than a moment’s merriment, whose claim Will greater grow with every mellowed year. The people will not bear you down the street, Dancing to the strong rhythm of your words, The modern kings will throttle you to greet The […]...
10. The Poet in the Nursery The youngest poet down the shelves was fumbling In a dim library, just behind the chair From which the ancient poet was mum-mumbling A song about some Lovers at a Fair, Pulling his long white beard and gently grumbling That rhymes were beastly things and never there. And as I groped, the whole time I […]...
11. An Old French Poet When in your sober mood my body have ye laid In sight and sound of things beloved, woodland and stream, And the green turf has hidden the poor bones ye deem No more a close companion with those rhymes we made; Then, if some bird should pipe, or breezes stir the glade, Thinking them for […]...
12. An Old Twenty-Third Man “Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine, Marching below, and we still gulping wine?” From the sad magic of his fragrant cup The red-faced old centurion started up, Cursed, battered on the table. “No,” he said, “Not that! The Three-and-Twentieth Legion’s dead, Dead in the first year of this damned campaign – The Legion’s dead, dead, […]...
13. When I Was One-and-Twenty When I was one-and-twenty I heard a wise man say, “Give crowns and pounds and guineas But not your heart away; Give pearls away and rubies But keep your fancy free.” But I was one-and-twenty, No use to talk to me. When I was one-and-twenty I heard him say again, “The heart out of the […]...
14. One And Twenty LONG-EXPECTED one and twenty Ling’ring year at last has flown, Pomp and pleasure, pride and plenty Great Sir John, are all your own. Loosen’d from the minor’s tether, Free to mortgage or to sell, Wild as wind, and light as feather Bid the slaves of thrift farewell. Call the Bettys, Kates, and Jenneys Ev’ry name […]...
15. The Maple Tree The Maple with its tassell flowers of green That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green. Bark ribb’d like corderoy in seamy screed That farther up the stem is smoother seen, Where the white hemlock with white umbel flowers Up […]...
16. Theodore the Poet As a boy, Theodore, you sat for long hours On the shore of the turbid Spoon With deep-set eye staring at the door of the crawfish’s burrow, Waiting for him to appear, pushing ahead, First his waving antennae, like straws of hay, And soon his body, colored like soap-stone, Gemmed with eyes of jet. And […]...
17. The Twenty-Third Psalm My Shepherd is the Lord my God, There is no want I know; His flock He leads in verdant meads, Where tranquil waters flow. He doth restore my fainting soul With His divine caress, And, when I stray, He points the way To paths of righteousness. Yea, though I walk the vale of death, What […]...
18. Said The Poet To The Analyst My business is words. Words are like labels, Or coins, or better, like swarming bees. I confess I am only broken by the sources of things; As if words were counted like dead bees in the attic, Unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings. I must always forget who one words is able […]...
19. Twenty Four Hour Embrace Awakening In the twenty four hour embrace of a few moments sleep, Where half a lifetime eludes dreams; And feeling you were cheated By too much gin and lack of sleep In these unconsummated fumblings. Reunions of this passion seem anomalous, Do we feed self-interests which destroy its mutuality? To cling together is a punishment […]...
20. Twenty-Pound Stone It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if offering my stomach, as if it were pulling me forward. At night the sun leaks from it, it turns cold, I sleep with it beside my head, I breath for it. Sometimes I dream of hammers. I am hammering […]...
21. Twenty-First. Night. Monday Twenty-first. Night. Monday. Silhouette of the capitol in darkness. Some good-for-nothing who knows why Made up the tale that love exists on earth. People believe it, maybe from laziness Or boredom, and live accordingly: They wait eagerly for meetings, fear parting, And when they sing, they sing about love. But the secret reveals itself to […]...
22. The Wood Road If I were to walk this way Hand in hand with Grief, I should mark that maple-spray Coming into leaf. I should note how the old burrs Rot upon the ground. Yes, though Grief should know me hers While the world goes round, It could not if truth be said This was lost on me: […]...
23. 365. Lines on Fergusson, the Poet ILL-FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson! What heart that feels and will not yield a tear, To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun To shed its influence on thy bright career. O why should truest Worth and Genius pine Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe, While titled knaves and idiot-Greatness shine In all […]...
24. INFAMOUS POET I never did fit in – at six or sixty one – I stand out in a crowd, too young or old And gather pity like a shroud. “Is that real silk?” A teenager inquired. “As real as Oxfam ever is For one pound fifty.” The vast ballroom was growing misty And blurred with alcohol […]...
25. Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday You cannot see the walls that divide your hand From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it. You cannot see the walls because they are glass, And glass is nothing until you try to pass it. Beat on it if you like, but not too hard, For glass will break you […]...
26. The Poet Of Ignorance Perhaps the earth is floating, I do not know. Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups Made by some giant scissors, I do not know. Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear, I do not know. Perhaps God is only a deep voice Heard by the deaf, I do not know. Perhaps I am no […]...
27. The Poet as Hero You’ve heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented, Mocking and loathing War: you’ve asked me why Of my old, silly sweetness I’ve repented My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. You are aware that once I sought the Grail, Riding in armour bright, serene and strong; And it was told that through my infant wail There […]...
28. POET-IN-RESIDENCE You are my dream Of the East You are my life In the West Fused in one You begin my day And end each day With a silent smile When I die I will Have only my love To leave you. You said I had written No poems for you And you had written Only […]...
29. The Old Poet I will be glad because it is the Spring; I will forget the winter in my heart Dead hopes and withered promise; and will wring A little joy from life ere life depart. For spendthrift youth with passion-blinded eyes, Stays not to see how woods and fields are bright; He hears the phantom voices call, […]...
30. Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith Every summer I listen and look Under the sun’s brass and even Into the moonlight, but I can’t hear Anything, I can’t see anything Not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up, Nor the leaves Deepening their damp pleats, Nor the tassels making, Nor the shucks, nor the cobs. And still, […]...
31. Home Thoughts Oh something just now must be happening there! That suddenly and quiveringly here, Amid the city’s noises, I must think Of mangoes leaning o’er the river’s brink, And dexterous Davie climbing high above, The gold fruits ebon-speckled to remove, And toss them quickly in the tangled mass Of wis-wis twisted round the guinea grass; And […]...
32. A Poet's Voice XV Part One The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it […]...
33. The Folly of Wisdom She is wise in the way that children are wise, Looking at me with such knowing, grave eyes I must bend down to her to understand. But she only smiles, and takes my hand. We are walking somewhere that her feet know to go, So I smile, and I follow… And the years are dark […]...
34. Love What’s wrong with you, with us, What’s happening to us? Ah our love is a harsh cord That binds us wounding us And if we want To leave our wound, To separate, It makes a new knot for us and condemns us To drain our blood and burn together. What’s wrong with you? I look […]...
35. An Address to the Rev. George Gilfillan All hail to the Rev. George Gilfillan of Dundee, He is the greatest preacher I did ever hear or see. He is a man of genius bright, And in him his congregation does delight, Because they find him to be honest and plain, Affable in temper, and seldom known to complain. He preaches in a […]...
36. 42. A Poet's Welcome to his Love-Begotten Daughter THOU’S 1 welcome, wean; mishanter fa’ me, If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy mamie, Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My bonie lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’ me Tyta or daddie. Tho’ now they ca’ me fornicator, An’ tease my name in kintry clatter, The mair they talk, I’m […]...
37. A Tale of the Miser and the Poet A WIT, transported with Inditing, Unpay’d, unprais’d, yet ever Writing; Who, for all Fights and Fav’rite Friends, Had Poems at his Fingers Ends; For new Events was still providing; Yet now desirous to be riding, He pack’d-up ev’ry Ode and Ditty And in Vacation left the City; So rapt with Figures, and Allusions, With secret […]...
38. A Memory Of Youth The moments passed as at a play; I had the wisdom love brings forth; I had my share of mother-wit, And yet for all that I could say, And though I had her praise for it, A cloud blown from the cut-throat North Suddenly hid Love’s moon away. Believing every word I said, I praised […]...
39. Giant Snail The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all Night. I have come out to take a walk and feed. My body foot, That is is wet and cold and covered with sharp gravel. It is White, the size of a dinner plate. I have set myself a goal, a Certain rock, but […]...
40. The largest Fire ever known The largest Fire ever known Occurs each Afternoon Discovered is without surprise Proceeds without concern Consumes and no report to men An Occidental Town, Rebuilt another morning To be burned down again....