Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday

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1. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
2. On My Birthday, July 21 I, MY dear, was born to-day So all my jolly comrades say: They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know That I was born to pain and woe; To thy denial, to thy scorn, Better I had ne’er been born: I wish to die, even […]...
3. Stella's Birthday March 13, 1719 Stella this day is thirty-four, (We shan’t dispute a year or more:) However, Stella, be not troubled, Although thy size and years are doubled, Since first I saw thee at sixteen, The brightest virgin on the green; So little is thy form declin’d; Made up so largely in thy mind. Oh, would it please the […]...
4. Poem On His Birthday In the mustardseed sun, By full tilt river and switchback sea Where the cormorants scud, In his house on stilts high among beaks And palavers of birds This sandgrain day in the bent bay’s grave He celebrates and spurns His driftwood thirty-fifth wind turned age; Herons spire and spear. Under and round him go Flounders, […]...
5. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
6. The One Before the Last I dreamt I was in love again With the One Before the Last, And smiled to greet the pleasant pain Of that innocent young past. But I jumped to feel how sharp had been The pain when it did live, How the faded dreams of Nineteen-ten Were Hell in Nineteen-five. The boy’s woe was as […]...
7. A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
8. A Birthday “Aug.” 10, 1911. Full moon to-night; and six and twenty years Since my full moon first broke from angel spheres! A year of infinite love unwearying – No circling seasons, but perennial spring! A year of triumph trampling through defeat, The first made holy and the last made sweet By this same love; a year […]...
9. If I were dead ‘IF I were dead, you’d sometimes say, Poor Child!’ The dear lips quiver’d as they spake, And the tears brake From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled. Poor Child, poor Child! I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song. It is not true that Love will do no wrong. Poor Child! […]...
10. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
11. Was It You? “Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usual way? For I’m overdrawn, I fear.” Then you look at me in a manner bland, As you turn your ledger’s leaves, And you hand it back with a soft white hand, And the […]...
12. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
13. A Ninth Birthday Three times thrice hath winter’s rough white wing Crossed and curdled wells and streams with ice Since his birth whose praises love would sing Three times thrice. Earth nor sea bears flower nor pearl of price Fit to crown the forehead of my king, Honey meet to please him, balm, nor spice. Love can think […]...
14. They Know Not My Heart They know not my heart, who believe there can be One stain of this earth in its feelings for thee; Who think, while I see thee in beauty’s young hour, As pure as the morning’s first dew on the flower, I could harm what I love, as the sun’s wanton ray But smiles on the […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. She Walks In Beauty She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which […]...
17. Opposites The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Walked out into the street And splashed in all the pubbles till She had such shocking feet The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child Stayed quietly in the house And sat upon the fender stool As still as any mouse. The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Her hands were black as ink; She would come running through the house And begging for […]...
18. Birthday (Autobiography) Seventy years ago my mother labored to bear me, A twelve-pound baby with a big head, Her first, it was plain torture. Finally they used the forceps And dragged me out, with one prong In my right eye, and slapped and banged me until I breathed. I am not particularly grateful for it. As to […]...
19. The Lunger Jack would laugh an’ joke all day; Never saw a lad so gay; Singin’ like a medder lark, Loaded to the Plimsoll mark With God’s sunshine was that boy; Had a strangle-holt on Joy. Held his head ‘way up in air, Left no callin’ cards on Care; Breezy, buoyant, brave and true; Sent his sunshine […]...
20. 201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787 AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter tale! Beasts of the forest have their savage homes, But He, who should imperial purple wear, Owns not the lap of earth where rests his royal […]...
21. For A Thirteenth Birthday You have read War and Peace. Now here is Sister Carrie, Not up to Tolstoy; still It will second the real world: Predictable planes and levels, Pavement that holds you, Stairs that lift you, Ice that trips you, Nights that begin after sunset, Four lunar phases, A finite house. I give you Dreiser Although (or […]...
22. 395. Sonnet on the Author's Birthday SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, ‘mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow. So in lone Poverty’s dominion drear, Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart; Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part, Nor asks if […]...
23. Eulalie I dwelt alone In a world of moan, And my soul was a stagnant tide, Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride- Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride. Ah, less – less bright The stars of the night Than the eyes of the radiant girl! That the vapor can […]...
24. A Prayer for a Mother's Birthday Lord Jesus, Thou hast known A mother’s love and tender care: And Thou wilt hear, while for my own Mother most dear I make this birthday prayer. Protect her life, I pray, Who gave the gift of life to me; And may she know, from day to day, The deepening glow of Life that comes […]...
25. Wishes To His (Supposed) Mistress Whoe’er she be, That not impossible she That shall command my heart and me; Where’er she lie, Locked up from mortal eye In shady leaves of destiny: Till that ripe birth Of studied fate stand forth, And teach her fair steps to our earth; Till that divine Idea take a shrine Of crystal flesh, through […]...
26. River And Sea Under the light of the silver moon We two sat, when our hearts were young; The night was warm with the breath of June, And loud from the meadow the cricket sung, And darker and deeper, oh, love, than the sea, Were your dear eyes, as they beamed to me. The moon hung clear, and […]...
27. PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
28. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
29. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
30. Bazonka Say Bazonka every day That’s what my grandma used to say It keeps at bay the Asian Flu’ And both your elbows free from glue. So say Bazonka every day (That’s what my grandma used to say) Don’t say it if your socks are dry! Or when the sun is in your eye! Never say […]...
31. When We Two Parted When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sank chill on my brow – It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all […]...
32. A Birthday Poem Just past dawn, the sun stands With its heavy red head In a black stanchion of trees, Waiting for someone to come With his bucket For the foamy white light, And then a long day in the pasture. I too spend my days grazing, Feasting on every green moment Till darkness calls, And with the […]...
33. A Birthday My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise […]...
34. Poem For My 43rd Birthday To end up alone In a tomb of a room Without cigarettes Or wine Just a lightbulb And a potbelly, Grayhaired, And glad to have The room. …in the morning They’re out there Making money: Judges, carpenters, Plumbers, doctors, Newsboys, policemen, Barbers, carwashers, Dentists, florists, Waitresses, cooks, Cabdrivers… And you turn over To your left […]...
35. Light Of Love Joy stayed with me a night Young and free and fair And in the morning light He left me there. Then Sorrow came to stay, And lay upon my breast He walked with me in the day. And knew me best. I’ll never be a bride, Nor yet celibate, So I’m living now with Pride […]...
36. Some time Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh! I love you so You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know! Some time […]...
37. Birthday (16th January 1949) I thank whatever gods may be For all the happiness that’s mine; That I am festive, fit and free To savour women, wit and wine; That I may game of golf enjoy, And have a formidable drive: In short, that I’m a gay old boy Though I be Seventy-and-five. My daughter thinks. […]...
38. Snake I saw a young snake glide Out of the mottled shade And hang, limp on a stone: A thin mouth, and a tongue Stayed, in the still air. It turned; it drew away; Its shadow bent in half; It quickened and was gone I felt my slow blood warm. I longed to be that thing. […]...
39. The Young May Moon The young May moon is beaming, love. The glow-worm’s lamp is gleaming, love. How sweet to rove, Through Morna’s grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! Then awake! the heavens look bright, my dear, ‘Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to […]...
40. 438. Impromptu on Mrs. Riddell's Birthday OLD Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night’s horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English hanging, drowning. “Now Jove, for once […]...