Threnody

Related poetry:

1. Song from Aella O SING unto my roundelay, O drop the briny tear with me; Dance no more at holyday, Like a running river be: My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed All under the willow-tree. Black his cryne as the winter night, White his rode as the summer snow, Red his face as the morning light, […]...
2. Madman's Song Better to see your cheek grown hollow, Better to see your temple worn, Than to forget to follow, follow, After the sound of a silver horn. Better to bind your brow with willow And follow, follow until you die, Than to sleep with your head on a golden pillow, Nor lift it up when the […]...
3. Threnody The south-wind brings Life, sunshine, and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire, But over the dead he has no power, The lost, the lost he cannot restore, And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return. I see my empty house, I see my trees repair their […]...
4. Art And Love For many long uninterrupted years She was the friend and confidant of Art; They walked together, heart communed with heart In that sweet comradeship that so endears. Her fondest hope, her sorrows and her fears She told her mate; who would in turn impart Important truths and secrets. But a dart, Shot by that unskilled, […]...
5. Pattern Leave me to my lonely pillow. Go, and take your silly posies Who has vowed to wear the willow Looks a fool, tricked out in roses. Who are you, my lad, to ease me? Leave your pretty words unspoken. Tinkling echoes little please me, Now my heart is freshly broken. Over young are you to […]...
6. Funeral Of Youth, The: Threnody The day that YOUTH had died, There came to his grave-side, In decent mourning, from the country’s ends, Those scatter’d friends Who had lived the boon companions of his prime, And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted, In feast and wine and many-crown’d carouse, The days and nights and dawnings of the […]...
7. The Funeral of Youth: Threnody The Day that Youth had died, There came to his grave-side, In decent mourning, from the country’s ends, Those scatter’d friends Who had lived the boon companions of his prime, And laughed with him and sung with him and wasted, In feast and wine and many-crown’d carouse, The days and nights and dawnings of the […]...
8. Eve – Song I span and Eve span A thread to bind the heart of man; But the heart of man was a wandering thing That came and went with little to bring: Nothing he minded what we made, As here he loitered, and there he stayed. I span and Eve span A thread to bind the heart […]...
9. Still Falls the Rain Still falls the Rain – Dark as the world of man, black as our loss – Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails Upon the Cross. Still falls the Rain With a sound like the pulse of the heart that is changed to the hammer-beat In the Potter’s Field, and the sound of the […]...
10. Where Shall the Lover Rest Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From the true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the fair billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. Chorus. Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce […]...
11. Mother's Loss If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe, My babe with dreamful eyes; Thy bed is cold; and night wind bold Shrieks woeful lullabies. My breast is softer than the sod; This room, with […]...
12. Eleu Loro Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From his true maiden’s breast Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die Under the willow. Eleu loro Soft shall be his pillow. There through the summer day Cool streams are laving: There, while the tempests sway, […]...
13. 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 a marble god Is pale, in scented gloaming. And at sunset there comes a lady fair Whose eyes are deep with yearning. By an old, old gate does the lady wait Her own true love’s […]...
14. Air has no Residence, no Neighbor Air has no Residence, no Neighbor, No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast’s Pillow Essential Host, in Life’s faint, wailing Inn, Later than Light thy Consciousness accost me Till it depart, persuading Mine...
15. Rainy Night Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow. Turn aside your eyes and ears, Trail away your robes of sorrow, You shall have my further years- You shall walk with me tomorrow. I am sister to the rain; Fey and […]...
16. The Willow On sweet young earth where the myrtle presses, Long we lay, when the May was new; The willow was winding the moon in her tresses, The bud of the rose was told with dew. And now on the brittle ground I’m lying, Screaming to die with the dead year’s dead; The stem of the rose […]...
17. Where I have lost, I softer tread Where I have lost, I softer tread I sow sweet flower from garden bed I pause above that vanished head And mourn. Whom I have lost, I pious guard From accent harsh, or ruthless word Feeling as if their pillow heard, Though stone! When I have lost, you’ll know by this A Bonnet black A […]...
18. Tell Me Tell me, dear beauty of the dusk, When purple ribbons bind the hill, Do dreams your secret wish fulfill, Do prayers, like kernels from the husk Come from your lips? Tell me if when The mountains loom at night, giant shades Of softer shadow, swift like blades Of grass seeds come to flower. Then Tell […]...
19. In The Willow Shade I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope The sun’s wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to […]...
20. The Hunter A full-fledged gun cannot endure The trifling of an amateur; Poor marksmanship its temper spoils And this is why the gun recoils. A self-respecting gun I’m sure Delights to jar the amateur And thinks that it is no disgrace To kick his shoulder out of place. Moral When you go out to hunt, my son […]...
21. Summer Remember the days of our first happiness, How strong we were, how dazed by passion, Lying all day, then all night in the narrow bed, Sleeping there, eating there too: it was summer, It seemed everything had ripened At once. And so hot we lay completely uncovered. Sometimes the wind rose; a willow brushed the […]...
22. Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid? Where be ye going, you Devon maid? And what have ye there i’ the basket? Ye tight little fairy, just fresh from the dairy, Will ye give me some cream if I ask it? I love your meads, and I love your flowers, And I love your junkets mainly, But ‘hind the door, I love […]...
23. A Mountain Revelry To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows, We drained a hundred jugs of wine. A splendid night it was. . . . In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed, But at last drunkenness overtook us; And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain, The earth for pillow, […]...
24. To Tan-Ch'iu My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range, Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills. At green Spring he lies in the empty woods, And is still asleep when the sun shines on igh. A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat; A peebly stream cleans his heart and ears. I envy you, […]...
25. Mountain Drinking Song To drown the ancient sorrows, We drank a hundred jugs of wine There in the beautiful night. We couldn’t go to bed with the moon so bright. The finally the wine overcame us And we lay down on the empty mountain The earth for a pillow, And a blanket made of heaven...
26. I Do Not Love Thee For That Fair I do not love thee for that fair Rich fan of thy most curious hair; Though the wires thereof be drawn Finer than threads of lawn, And are softer than the leaves On which the subtle spider weaves. I do not love thee for those flowers Growing on thy cheeks, love’s bowers; Though such cunning […]...
27. Befire the Battle By the hope within us springing, Herald of to-morrow’s strife; By that sun, whose light is bringing Chains or freedom, death or life Oh! remember life can be No charm for him, who lives not free! Like the day-star in the wave, Sinks a hero in his grave, ‘Midst the dew-fall of a nation’s tears. […]...
28. The Grey Eros WE are desert leagues apart; Time is misty ages now Since the warmth of heart to heart Chased the shadows from my brow. Oh, I am so old, meseems I am next of kin to Time, The historian of her dreams From the long-forgotten prime. You have come a path of flowers. What a way […]...
29. The Difference When we were together, heart of my heart, on that unforgotten quest, With your tender arm about me thrown and your head upon my breast, There came a grief that was bitter and deep and straitly dwell with me, And I shunned it not, so sweet it was to suffer and be with thee. And […]...
30. 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 no kinder words than these of me: “Ever she longed for peace, but was a woman! And thus they are, whose silly female dust Needs little enough to clutter it and bind it, Who meet […]...
31. Down Home Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps […]...
32. Her breast is fit for pearls Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver” Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest. Her heart is fit for home I a Sparrow build there Sweet of twigs and twine My perennial nest....
33. GONE THE last, late guest To the gate we followed; Goodbye and the rest The night-wind swallowed. House, garden, street, Lay tenfold gloomy, Where accents sweet Had made music to me. It was but a feast With the dark coming on; She was but a guest And now, she is gone....
34. Sonnet XIII: Bring, Brick to Deck My Brow Bring, bring to deck my brow, ye Sylvan girls, A roseate wreath; nor for my waving hair The costly band of studded gems prepare, Of sparkling crysolite or orient pearls: Love, o’er my head his canopy unfurls, His purple pinions fan the whisp’ring air; Mocking the golden sandal, rich and rare, Beneath my feet the […]...
35. She Gathered Lilacs, for Beth She gathered lilacs And arrayed them in her hair; Tonight, she taught the wind to be free. She kept her secrets In a silver locket; Her companions were starlight and mystery. She danced all night To the beat of her heart; With her tears she imbued the sea. She hid her despair In a crystal […]...
36. The City's Love For one brief golden moment rare like wine, The gracious city swept across the line; Oblivious of the color of my skin, Forgetting that I was an alien guest, She bent to me, my hostile heart to win, Caught me in passion to her pillowy breast; The great, proud city, seized with a strange love, […]...
37. The Long Small Room THE long small room that showed willows in the west Narrowed up to the end the fireplace filled, Although not wide. I liked it. No one guessed What need or accident made them so build. Only the moon, the mouse, and the sparrow peeped In from the ivy round the casement thick. Of all they […]...
38. I WILL NOT EAT MY POEM I kill for pleasure Not for gain. A man much more Than you my hands Find knives & flash them. I am guilty In my works While in their eyes I seek redemption. I find myself Forgotten Angry at the thought Of bread. I will not Eat my poem(A. Artaud) Much less be raped By […]...
39. The Wind tapped like a tired Man The Wind tapped like a tired Man And like a Host “Come in” I boldly answered entered then My Residence within A Rapid footless Guest To offer whom a Chair Were as impossible as hand A Sofa to the Air No Bone had He to bind Him His Speech was like the Push Of numerous […]...
40. He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes Fasten your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor rhymes: It worked at them, day out, day in, Building a sorrowful loveliness Out of the battles of old times. You need but lift a pearl-pale hand, And bind up your long hair and sigh; […]...