Christmas party at the South Danbury Church

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1. Christmas the delinquent i got nothing last year And i expect nothing this So i’ve got to find If i’m to be rewarded So all good people You’d better learn to give From the goodness of your heart Or at knife-point I’m a taker by trade Takers is keepers It won’t hurt you to bleed It’s a good […]...
2. Epitaph in a Church-Yard in Charleston, South Carolina GEORGE AUGUSTUS CLOUGH A NATIVE OF LIVERPOOL, DIED SUDDENLY OF “STRANGER’S FEVER” NOV’R 5th 1843 AGED 22 He died of “Stranger’s Fever” when his youth Had scarcely melted into manhood, so The chiselled legend runs; a brother’s woe Laid bare for epitaph. The savage ruth Of a sunny, bright, but alien land, uncouth With cruel […]...
3. A Working Party Three hours ago he blundered up the trench, Sliding and poising, groping with his boots; Sometimes he tripped and lurched against the walls With hands that pawed the sodden bags of chalk. He couldn’t see the man who walked in front; Only he heard the drum and rattle of feet Stepping along barred trench boards, […]...
4. South Africa 1903 Lived a woman wonderful, (May the Lord amend her!) Neither simple, kind, nor true, But her Pagan beauty drew Christian gentlemen a few Hotly to attend her. Christian gentlemen a few From Berwick unto Dover; For she was South Africa, Ana she was South Africa, She was Our South Africa, Africa all over! Half […]...
5. The South Wind Say So IF the oriole calls like last year When the south wind sings in the oats, If the leaves climb and climb on a bean pole Saying over a song learnt from the south wind, If the crickets send up the same old lessons Found when the south wind keeps on coming, We will get by, […]...
6. South Wind Where have you been, South Wind, this May-day morning,- With larks aloft, or skimming with the swallow, Or with blackbirds in a green, sun-glinted thicket? Oh, I heard you like a tyrant in the valley; Your ruffian haste shook the young, blossoming orchards; You clapped rude hands, hallooing round the chimney, And white your pennons […]...
7. Diary of a Church Mouse Here among long-discarded cassocks, Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks, Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books. Lean and alone I spend my days Behind this Church of England baize. I share my dark forgotten room With two oil-lamps and half a broom. The cleaner never bothers me, So here […]...
8. Lydia Humphrey Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church, With my Bible under my arm Till I was gray and old; Unwedded, alone in the world, Finding brothers and sisters in the congregation, And children in the church. I know they laughed and thought me queer. I knew of the eagle souls that […]...
9. Nancy Knapp Well, don’t you see this was the way of it: We bought the farm with what he inherited, And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning His fathers mind against the rest of them. And we never had any peace with our treasure. The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed. And lightning […]...
10. Some keep the Sabbath going to Church Some keep the Sabbath going to Church I keep it, staying at Home With a Bobolink for a Chorister And an Orchard, for a Dome Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice I just wear my Wings And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton sings. God preaches, a noted Clergyman And the […]...
11. In Church I love the church: its labara, Its silver vessels, its candleholders, The lights, the ikons, the pulpit. Whenever I go there, into a church of the Greeks, With its aroma of incense, Its liturgical chanting and harmony, The majestic presence of the priests, Dazzling in their ornate vestments, The solemn rhythm of their gestures- My […]...
12. Church And State Here is fresh matter, poet, Matter for old age meet; Might of the Church and the State, Their mobs put under their feet. O but heart’s wine shall run pure, Mind’s bread grow sweet. That were a cowardly song, Wander in dreams no more; What if the Church and the State Are the mob that […]...
13. Summer in the South The Oriole sings in the greening grove As if he were half-way waiting, The rosebuds peep from their hoods of green, Timid, and hesitating. The rain comes down in a torrent sweep And the nights smell warm and pinety, The garden thrives, but the tender shoots Are yellow-green and tiny. Then a flash of sun […]...
14. The Church-Bell As I was lying in my bed I heard the church-bell ring; Before one solemn word was said A bird began to sing. I heard a dog begin to bark And a bold crowing cock; The bell, between the cold and dark, Tolled. It was five o’clock. The church-bell tolled, and the bird sang, A […]...
15. Her south china sea eyes young girl With her south china sea Eyes Where an ocean wind Sighs Stands as she tries. In the silence Between day and night Between hope and dreaming, Water is carved Deep In where a poet grows In where a child to woman Perceives. A young girl dares To paint Her colors true To dance […]...
16. Hilaire Belloc – The South Country When I am living in the Midlands That are sodden and unkind, I light my lamp in the evening: My work is left behind; And the great hills of the South Country Come back into my mind. The great hills of the South Country They stand along the sea; And it’s there walking in the […]...
17. First Party At Ken Kesey's With Hell's Angels Cool black night thru redwoods Cars parked outside in shade Behind the gate, stars dim above The ravine, a fire burning by the side Porch and a few tired souls hunched over In black leather jackets. In the huge Wooden house, a yellow chandelier At 3 A. M. the blast of loudspeakers Hi-fi Rolling Stones […]...
18. South Winds jostle them South Winds jostle them Bumblebees come Hover hesitate Drink, and are gone Butterflies pause On their passage Cashmere I softly plucking, Present them here!...
19. Clinton South of Polk I WANDER down on Clinton street south of Polk And listen to the voices of Italian children quarreling. It is a cataract of coloratura And I could sleep to their musical threats and accusations....
20. The Dinner-Party Fish “So. . .” they said, With their wine-glasses delicately poised, Mocking at the thing they cannot understand. “So. . .” they said again, Amused and insolent. The silver on the table glittered, And the red wine in the glasses Seemed the blood I had wasted In a foolish cause. Game The gentleman with the […]...
21. I Didn't Go To Church Today I didn’t go to church today, I trust the Lord to understand. The surf was swirling blue and white, The children swirling on the sand. He knows, He knows how brief my stay, How brief this spell of summer weather, He knows when I am said and done We’ll have plenty of time together....
22. A South Wind has a pathos A South Wind has a pathos Of individual Voice As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address. A Hint of Ports and Peoples And much not understood The fairer for the farness And for the foreignhood....
23. Kallundborg Church ( From The Tent on the Beach) “Tie stille, barn min! Imorgen kommer Fin, Fa’er din, Og gi’er dich Esbern Snares öine og hjerte at lege med!” Zealand Rhyme. “BUILD at Kallundborg by the sea A church as stately as church may be, And there shalt thou wed my daughter fair,” Said the Lord of Nesvek to Esbern Snare. And the Baron […]...
24. South of my Days South of my days’ circle, part of my blood’s country, Rises that tableland, high delicate outline Of bony slopes wincing under the winter, Low trees, blue-leaved and olive, outcropping granite – Clean, lean, hungry country. The creek’s leaf-silenced, Willow choked, the slope a tangle of medlar and crabapple Branching over and under, blotched with a […]...
25. The Church On Comiaken Hill for Sydney Pettit The lines are keen against today’s bad sky About to rain. We’re white and understand Why Indians sold butter for the funds To build this church. Four hens and a rooster Huddle on the porch. We are dark And know why no one climbed to pray. The priest Who did his best […]...
26. The Trapper's Christmas Eve It’s mighty lonesome-like and drear. Above the Wild the moon rides high, And shows up sharp and needle-clear The emptiness of earth and sky; No happy homes with love a-glow; No Santa Claus to make believe: Just snow and snow, and then more snow; It’s Christmas Eve, it’s Christmas Eve. And here am I where […]...
27. The Bishop Orders His Tomb At Saint Praxed's Church Vanity, saith the preacher, vanity! Draw round my bed: is Anselm keeping back? Nephews sons mine ah God, I know not! Well She, men would have to be your mother once, Old Gandolf envied me, so fair she was! What’s done is done, and she is dead beside, Dead long ago, and I am Bishop […]...
28. Pictures of Home In the red-roofed stucco house Of my childhood, the dining room Was screened off by folding doors With small glass panes. Our neighbors The Bertins, who barely escaped Hitler, Often joined us at table. One night Their daughter said, In Vienna Our dining room had doors like these. For a moment, we all sat quite […]...
29. The Widow's Party “Where have you been this while away, Johnnie, Johnnie?” ‘Long with the rest on a picnic lay, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! They called us out of the barrack-yard To Gawd knows where from Gosport Hard, And you can’t refuse when you get the card, And the Widow gives the party. (Bugle: Ta rara ra-ra-rara!) “What […]...
30. Christmas treasures I count my treasures o’er with care. The little toy my darling knew, A little sock of faded hue, A little lock of golden hair. Long years ago this holy time, My little one my all to me Sat robed in white upon my knee And heard the merry Christmas chime. “Tell me, my little […]...
31. South Hill Light boat south hill go North hill vast expanse hard reach Separate bank see person home Long way off not recognise A light boat sets off from the southern hill, The north is hard to reach across the vastness. On the other bank, I look for my home, It cannot be recognised so far off....
32. Christmas Fancies When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago. And etched on vacant places, Are half forgotten faces Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know – When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow. Uprising from the […]...
33. South London Sketch From Bermondsey to Wandsworth So many churches are, Some with apsidal chancels, Some Perpendicular And schools by E. R. Robson In the style of Norman Shaw Where blue-serged adolescence learn’d To model and to draw. Oh, in among the houses, The viaduct below, Stood the Coffee Essence Factory Of Robinson and Co. Burnt and brown […]...
34. The Birds reported from the South The Birds reported from the South A News express to Me A spicy Charge, My little Posts But I am deaf Today The Flowers appealed a timid Throng I reinforced the Door Go blossom for the Bees I said And trouble Me no More The Summer Grace, for Notice strove Remote Her best Array The […]...
35. South Country After the whey-faced anonymity Of river-gums and scribbly-gums and bush, After the rubbing and the hit of brush, You come to the South Country As if the argument of trees were done, The doubts and quarrelling, the plots and pains, All ended by these clear and gliding planes Like an abrupt solution. And over the […]...
36. A Tale of Christmas Eve ‘Twas Christmastide in Germany, And in the year of 1850, And in the city of Berlin, which is most beautiful to the eye; A poor boy was heard calling out to passers-by. “Who’ll buy my pretty figures,” loudly he did cry, Plaster of Paris figures, but no one inclined to buy; His clothes were thin […]...
37. The Church-Builder The church flings forth a battled shade Over the moon-blanched sward: The church; my gift; whereto I paid My all in hand and hoard; Lavished my gains With stintless pains To glorify the Lord. I squared the broad foundations in Of ashlared masonry; I moulded mullions thick and thin, Hewed fillet and ogee; I circleted […]...
38. A Boy in Church “Gabble-gabble,… brethren,… gabble-gabble!” My window frames forest and heather. I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whether The text is praise or exhortation, Prayer or thanksgiving, or damnation. Outside it blows wetter and wetter, The tossing trees never stay still. I shift my elbows to catch better The full round sweep […]...
39. A Child's Christmas In Wales One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound Except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember Whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it […]...
40. A Christmas Ghost Story South of the Line, inland from far Durban, A mouldering soldier lies your countryman. Awry and doubled up are his gray bones, And on the breeze his puzzled phantom moans Nightly to clear Canopus: “I would know By whom and when the All-Earth-gladdening Law Of Peace, brought in by that Man Crucified, Was ruled to […]...