Villanelle At Sundown

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1. Auld Lang Syne Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp, And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a […]...
2. Villanelle of Change Since Persia fell at Marathon, The yellow years have gathered fast: Long centuries have come and gone. And yet (they say) the place will don A phantom fury of the past, Since Persia fell at Marathon; And as of old, when Helicon Trembled and swayed with rapture vast (Long centuries have come and gone), This […]...
3. Sundown The summer sun is sinking low; Only the tree-tops redden and glow: Only the weathercock on the spire Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire; All is in shadow below. O beautiful, awful summer day, What hast thou given, what taken away? Life and death, and love and hate, Homes made happy or […]...
4. 238. Song-Auld Lang Syne SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne! Chorus.-For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint stowp! And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak […]...
5. The Color of the Grave is Green The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite asleep To stop and tell them where it is But just a Daisy deep The Color of the Grave is white […]...
6. Sonnet VII: When Nature When Nature made her chief work, Stella’s eyes, In color black why wrapp’d she beams so bright? Would she in beamy black, like painter wise, Frame daintiest lustre, mix’d of shades and light? Or did she else that sober hue devise, In object best to knit and strength our sight, Lest if no veil those […]...
7. DOUBLE VILLANELLE I. O goat-foot God of Arcady! This modern world is grey and old, And what remains to us of thee? No more the shepherd lads in glee Throw apples at thy wattled fold, O goat-foot God of Arcady! Nor through the laurels can one see Thy soft brown limbs, thy beard of gold And what […]...
8. A Villanelle O singer of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily? Still through the ivy flits the bee Where Amaryllis lies in state; O Singer of Persephone! Simaetha calls on Hecate And hears the wild dogs at the gate; Dost thou remember Sicily? Still by the light and laughing sea Poor Polypheme bemoans […]...
9. Villanelle Katie could put her feet behind her head Or do a grand plié, position two, Her suppleness magnificent in bed. I strained my lower back, and Katie bled, Only a little, doing what we could do When Katie tucked her feet behind her head. Her torso was a C-cup’d figurehead, Wearing below its navel a […]...
10. Villanelle: The Psychological Hour I had over prepared the event, That much was ominous. With middle-ageing care I had laid out just the right books. I had almost turned down the pages. Beauty is so rare a thing. So few drink of my fountain. So much barren regret, So many hours wasted! And now I watch, from the window, […]...
11. Villanelle Of Spring Bells Bells in the town alight with spring Converse, with a concordance of new airs Make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing. People emerge from winter to hear them ring, Children glitter with mischief and the blind man hears Bells in the town alight with spring. Even he on his eyes feels the caressing […]...
12. 82. Song-Kissing my Katie O MERRY hae I been teethin’ a heckle, An’ merry hae I been shapin’ a spoon; O merry hae I been cloutin’ a kettle, An’ kissin’ my Katie when a’ was done. O a’ the lang day I ca’ at my hammer, An’ a’ the lang day I whistle and sing; O a’ the lang […]...
13. East India Grill Villanelle Across the table, Bridget sneaks a smile; She’s caught me staring past her at the man Who brings us curried dishes, hot and mild. His eyes are blue, intensely blue, hot sky; His hair, dark gold; his skin like cinnamon. He speaks in quick-soft accents; Bridget smiles. We’ve come here in our summer skirts, heels […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Now, God Be Thanked Who Has Matched Us With His Hour Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]...
16. 1914 I: Peace Now, God be thanked Who has watched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]...
17. I. Peace Now, God be thanked Who has matched us with His hour, And caught our youth, and wakened us from sleeping, With hand made sure, clear eye, and sharpened power, To turn, as swimmers into cleanness leaping, Glad from a world grown old and cold and weary, Leave the sick hearts that honour could not move, […]...
18. Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is best painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill To find where your true image pictured lies, Which in my bosom’s shop is […]...
19. Sonnet XXIV Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is the painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill, To find where your true image pictured lies; Which in my bosom’s shop is […]...
20. Ditty of First Desire In the green morning I wanted to be a heart. A heart. And in the ripe evening I wanted to be a nightingale. A nightingale. (Soul, Turn orange-colored. Soul, Turn the color of love.) In the vivid morning I wanted to be myself. A heart. And at the evening’s end I wanted to be my […]...
21. Oh Who Is That Young Sinner Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they’re taking him to prison for the color of his hair. ‘Tis a shame to human nature, such a head […]...
22. 217. Song-The Lad they ca' Jumpin John HER daddie forbad, her minnie forbad Forbidden she wadna be: She wadna trow’t the browst she brew’d, Wad taste sae bitterlie. Chorus.-The lang lad they ca’Jumpin John Beguil’d the bonie lassie, The lang lad they ca’Jumpin John Beguil’d the bonie lassie. A cow and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf, And thretty gude shillin’s […]...
23. People To those fixed on white, White is white, To those fixed on black, It is the same, And red is red, Yellow, yellow- Surely there are such sights In the many colored world, Or in the mind. The strange thing is that These people never see themselves Or you, or me. Are they not in […]...
24. Old Times Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times; Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christmas chimes, And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my friend, And the winter now, means death. And summer blossoms speak all too plain Of the dear, dead forms beneath. But […]...
25. A Fire-Truck Right down the shocked street with a siren-blast That sends all else skittering to the curb, Redness, brass, ladders and hats hurl past, Blurring to sheer verb, Shift at the corner into uproarious gear And make it around the turn in a squall of traction, The headlong bell maintaining sure and clear, Thought is degraded […]...
26. Is White a Color? White, pristine, unblemished They say it is not a color I love white mists, clouds Lingering on blue mountains. White, no shades No off white, cream Pure as snow on shimmering peaks Is my favorite sight. Nurses, priests, politicians Are bound, chained to white White nebulous clouds Evoke deep nostalgic thoughts. They swaddled my father […]...
27. The Widow's Lament In Springtime Sorrow is my own yard Where the new grass Flames as it has flamed Often before but not With the cold fire That closes round me this year. Thirtyfive years I lived with my husband. The plumtree is white today With masses of flowers. Masses of flowers Load the cherry branches And color some bushes […]...
28. Nimmo Since you remember Nimmo, and arrive At such a false and florid and far drawn Confusion of odd nonsense, I connive No longer, though I may have led you on. So much is told and heard and told again, So many with his legend are engrossed, That I, more sorry now than I was then, […]...
29. The Color of a Queen, is this The Color of a Queen, is this The Color of a Sun At setting this and Amber Beryl and this, at Noon And when at night Auroran widths Fling suddenly on men ‘Tis this and Witchcraft nature keeps A Rank for Iodine...
30. 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....
31. A Study In Feeling To be a great musician you must be a man of moods, You have to be, to understand sonatas and etudes. To execute pianos and to fiddle with success, With sympathy and feeling you must fairly effervesce; It was so with Paganini, Remenzi and Cho-pang, And so it was with Peterkin Von Gabriel O’Lang. Monsieur […]...
32. The Three Tommies That Barret, the painter of pictures, what feeling for color he had! And Fanning, the maker of music, such melodies mirthful and mad! And Harley, the writer of stories, so whimsical, tender and glad! To hark to their talk in the trenches, high heart unfolding to heart, Of the day when the war would be […]...
33. 297. Election Ballad for Westerha&#039 THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie; But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King- Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie. Chorus.-Up and waur them a’, Jamie, Up and waur them a’; The Johnstones hae the guidin o’t, Ye turncoat Whigs, awa’! The day he stude […]...
34. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
35. Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service Look, look, master, here comes two religious caterpillars. The Jew of Malta. POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE The sapient sutlers of the Lord Drift across the window-panes. In the beginning was the Word. In the beginning was the Word. Superfetation of, And at the mensual turn of time Produced enervate Origen. A painter of the Umbrian school Designed upon […]...
36. 391. A Tippling Ballad-When Princes and Prelates, etc WHEN Princes and Prelates, And hot-headed zealots, A’ Europe had set in a low, a low, The poor man lies down, Nor envies a crown, And comforts himself as he dow, as he dow, And comforts himself as he dow. The black-headed eagle, As keen as a beagle, He hunted o’er height and o’er howe, […]...
37. As far from pity, as complaint As far from pity, as complaint As cool to speech as stone As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone As far from time as History As near yourself Today As Children, to the Rainbow’s scarf Or Sunset’s Yellow play To eyelids in the Sepulchre How dumb the Dancer lies While Color’s Revelations […]...
38. 465. Song-It was a' for our rightfu' King IT was a’ for our rightfu’ King We left fair Scotland’s strand; It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We e’er saw Irish land, my dear, We e’er saw Irish land. Now a’ is done that men can do, And a’ is done in vain; My Love and Native Land fareweel, For I maun cross […]...
39. 485. Song-How lang and dreary is the night HOW lang and dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie; I restless lie frae e’en to morn Though I were ne’er sae weary. Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang! And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her window’d heart is sair, That’s absent frae her Dearie! When I think on […]...
40. 514. Song-The Lass o' Ecclefechan GAT ye me, O gat ye me, O gat ye me wi’ naething? Rock an reel, and spinning wheel, A mickle quarter basin: Bye attour my Gutcher has A heich house and a laich ane, A’ forbye my bonie sel, The toss o’ Ecclefechan. O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang, O haud your tongue […]...