Epitaph
The first time I died, I walked my ways;
I followed the file of limping days.
I held me tall, with my head flung up,
But I dared not look on the new moon’s cup.
I dared not look on the sweet young rain,
And between my ribs was a gleaming pain.
The next time I died, they laid me deep.
They spoke worn words to hallow my sleep.
They tossed me petals, they wreathed me fern,
They weighted me down with a marble urn.
And I lie here warm, and I lie here dry,
And watch the worms slip by, slip by.
Similar poems:
- Wail Love has gone a-rocketing. That is not the worst; I could do without the thing, And not be the first. […]...
- There Was One There was one a-riding grand On a tall brown mare, And a fine gold band He brought me there. A […]...
- Convalescent How shall I wail, that wasn’t meant for weeping? Love has run and left me, oh, what then? Dream, then, […]...
- Paths I shall tread, another year, Ways I walked with Grief, Past the dry, ungarnered ear And the brittle leaf. I […]...
- The Whistling Girl Back of my back, they talk of me, Gabble and honk and hiss; Let them batten, and let them be- […]...
- Theory Into love and out again, Thus I went, and thus I go. Spare your voice, and hold your pen- Well […]...
- On Cheating The Fiddler “Then we will have tonight!” we said. “Tomorrow – may we not be dead?” The morrow touched our eyes, and […]...
- Recurrence We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and […]...
- Coda There’s little in taking or giving, There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this living Was never […]...
- Lines On Reading Too Many Poets Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; […]...
- The Dramatists A string of shiny days we had, A spotless sky, a yellow sun; And neither you nor I was sad […]...
- Verse For a Certain Dog Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes, Dear little friend of mine, I never knew. All-innocent are you, and […]...
- Observation If I don’t drive around the park, I’m pretty sure to make my mark. If I’m in bed each night […]...
- Unfortunate Coincidence By the time you swear you’re his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying – Lady, […]...
- The Leal The friends I made have slipped and strayed, And who’s the one that cares? A trifling lot and best forgot- […]...
- The Burned Child Love has had his way with me. This my heart is torn and maimed Since he took his play with […]...
- The New Love If it shine or if it rain, Little will I care or know. Days, like drops upon a pane, Slip, […]...
- The Last Question New love, new love, where are you to lead me? All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line. […]...
- Song of Perfect Propriety Oh, I should like to ride the seas, A roaring buccaneer; A cutlass banging at my knees, A dirk behind […]...
- Fighting Words Say my love is easy had, Say I’m bitten raw with pride, Say I am too often sad- Still behold […]...
- Sonnet For The End Of A Sequence So take my vows and scatter them to sea; Who swears the sweetest is no more than human. And say […]...
- Salome’s Dancing-Lesson She that begs a little boon (Heel and toe! Heel and toe!) Little gets – and nothing, soon. (No, no, […]...
- For A Lady Who Must Write Verse Unto seventy years and seven, Hide your double birthright well- You, that are the brat of Heaven And the pampered […]...
- August When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled […]...
- Song in a Minor Key There’s a place I know where the birds swing low, And wayward vines go roaming, Where the lilacs nod, and […]...
- The Dark Girl’s Rhyme Who was there had seen us Wouldn’t bid him run? Heavy lay between us All our sires had done. There […]...
- Little Words When you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf, Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds; And I […]...
- Tombstones in the Starlight I. The Minor Poet His little trills and chirpings were his best. No music like the nightingale’s was born Within […]...
- Iseult Of Brittany So delicate my hands, and long, They might have been my pride. And there were those to make them song […]...
- Ballade Of A Great Weariness There’s little to have but the things I had, There’s little to bear but the things I bore. There’s nothing […]...