Where Once The Waters Of Your Face

Related poetry:

1. As a Beam O'er the Face of the Waters May Glow As a beam o’er the face of the waters may glow While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while. One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o’er our joys […]...
2. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines I walked among the seven woods of Coole: Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn; Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no, Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden hy green houghs Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee, Where hazel and ash and privet hlind […]...
3. Weeds FROM the time of the early radishes To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village against weeds. The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed. The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing And the weeds come on and on in […]...
4. The Human Face I. Soon Of all the springtimes of the world This one is the ugliest Of all of my ways of being To be trusting is the best Grass pushes up snow Like the stone of a tomb But I sleep within the storm And awaken eyes bright Slowness, brief time ends Where all streets must […]...
5. I live with Him I see His face I live with Him I see His face I go no more away For Visitor or Sundown Death’s single privacy The Only One forestalling Mine And that by Right that He Presents a Claim invisible No wedlock granted Me I live with Him I hear His Voice I stand alive Today To witness to the […]...
6. Prairie Waters by Night CHATTER of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water-sheer waters showing the russet of old stones remembering many rains. And the long willows drowse on the shoulders of the running water, and sleep from much music; joined songs of day-end, feathery throats and stony waters, in a choir […]...
7. The Meeting of the Waters There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. Yet it was not that nature had shed o’er the scene Her purest […]...
8. April Rise If ever I saw blessing in the air I see it now in this still early day Where lemon-green the vaporous morning drips Wet sunlight on the powder of my eye. Blown bubble-film of blue, the sky wraps round Weeds of warm light whose every root and rod Splutters with soapy green, and all the […]...
9. Break, Break, Break Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O, well for the fisherman’s boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay! And the […]...
10. The Masked Face I found me in a great surging space, At either end a door, And I said: “What is this giddying place, With no firm-fixéd floor, That I knew not of before?” “It is Life,” said a mask-clad face. I asked: “But how do I come here, Who never wished to come; Can the light and […]...
11. Reapers Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones Are sharpening scythes. I see them place the hones In their hip-pockets as a thing that’s done, And start their silent swinging, one by one. Black horses drive a mower through the weeds, And there, a field rat, startled, squealing bleeds, His belly close to ground. […]...
12. The wayfarer The wayfarer, Perceiving the pathway to truth, Was struck with astonishment. It was thickly grown with weeds. “Ha,” he said, “I see that none has passed here In a long time.” Later he saw that each weed Was a singular knife. “Well,” he mumbled at last, “Doubtless there are other roads.”...
13. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...
14. The Voice of the Waters WHERE the Greyhound River windeth through a loneliness so deep, Scarce a wild fowl shakes the quiet that the purple boglands keep, Only God exults in silence over fields no man may reap. Where the silver wave with sweetness fed the tiny lives of grass I was bent above, my image mirrored in the fleeting […]...
15. How the Waters closed above Him How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know How He stretched His Anguish to us That is covered too Spreads the Pond Her Base of Lilies Bold above the Boy Whose unclaimed Hat and Jacket Sum the History...
16. All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the water’s Monotone. The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing Where I go. I hear the noise of many waters Far below. All day, all night, I hear them […]...
17. SPIRIT SONG OVER THE WATERS THE soul of man Resembleth water: From heaven it cometh, To heaven it soareth. And then again To earth descendeth, Changing ever. Down from the lofty Rocky wall Streams the bright flood, Then spreadeth gently In cloudy billows O’er the smooth rock, And welcomed kindly, Veiling, on roams it, Soft murmuring, Tow’rd the abyss. Cliffs […]...
18. The waters chased him as he fled The waters chased him as he fled, Not daring look behind A billow whispered in his Ear, “Come home with me, my friend My parlor is of shriven glass, My pantry has a fish For every palate in the Year” To this revolting bliss The object floating at his side Made no distinct reply....
19. The Shadowy Waters: The Harp of Aengus Edain came out of Midhir’s hill, and lay Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass, Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs, And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made Of opal and ruhy and pale chrysolite Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings, Sweet with all […]...
20. A Chorus Over the surging tides and the mountain kingdoms, Over the pastoral valleys and the meadows, Over the cities with their factory darkness, Over the lands where peace is still a power, Over all these and all this planet carries A power broods, invisible monarch, a stranger To some, but by many trusted. Man’s a believer […]...
21. The Blue Swallows Across the millstream below the bridge Seven blue swallows divide the air In shapes invisible and evanescent, Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s Or memory’s power to keep them there. “History is where tensions were,” “Form is the diagram of forces.” Thus, helplessly, there on the bridge, While gazing down upon those birds – How strange, to […]...
22. Now I am a Plant, a Weed Now I am a plant, a weed, Bending and swinging On a rocky ledge; And now I am a long brown grass Fluttering like flame; I am a reed; An old shell singing For ever the same; A drift of sedge; A white, white stone; A bone; Until I pass Into sand again, And spin […]...
23. A Weed is a flower in the wrong place A weed is a flower in the wrong place, A flower is a weed in the right place, If you were a weed in the right place You would be a flower; But seeing as you’re a weed in the wrong place You’re only a weed – Its high time someone pulled you out....
24. I See The Boys Of Summer I I see the boys of summer in their ruin Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils; There in their heat the winter floods Of frozen loves they fetch their girls, And drown the cargoed apples in their tides. These boys of light are curdlers in their folly, Sour […]...
25. A Sort Of A Song Let the snake wait under His weed And the writing Be of words, slow and quick, sharp To strike, quiet to wait, Sleepless. -through metaphor to reconcile The people and the stones. Compose. (No ideas But in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits The rocks....
26. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing. Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said: […]...
27. Elegy Before Death There will be rose and rhododendron When you are dead and under ground; Still will be heard from white syringas Heavy with bees, a sunny sound; Still will the tamaracks be raining After the rain has ceased, and still Will there be robins in the stubble, Brown sheep upon the warm green hill. Spring will […]...
28. Love's Deity I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her […]...
29. Face To Face Day after day, O lord of my life, Shall I stand before thee face to face. With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, Shall I stand before thee face to face. Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, With humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face. In this laborious world […]...
30. With The Face With the face goes a mirror As with the mind a world. Likeness tells the doubting eye That strangeness is not strange. At an early hour and knowledge Identity not yet familiar Looks back upon itself from later, And seems itself. To-day seems now. With reality-to-be goes time. With the mind goes a world. Wit […]...
31. Crater Face is what we called her. The story was That her father had thrown Drano at her Which was probably true, given the way she slouched Through fifth grade, afraid of the world, recess Especially. She had acne scars Before she had acne-poxs and dips And bright red patches. I don’t remember Any report in the […]...
32. At Weeping Face WHAT weeping face is that looking from the window? Why does it stream those sorrowful tears? Is it for some burial place, vast and dry? Is it to wet the soil of graves?...
33. An Irish Face NOT her own sorrow only that hath place Upon yon gentle face. Too slight have been her childhood’s years to gain The imprint of such pain. It hid behind her laughing hours, and wrought Each curve in saddest thought On brow and lips and eyes. With subtle art It made that little heart Through its […]...
34. His Own Face Hidden HOKUSAI’S portrait of himself Tells what his hat was like And his arms and legs. The only faces Are a river and a mountain And two laughing farmers. The smile of Hokusai is under his hat....
35. Not in this World to see his face Not in this World to see his face Sounds long until I read the place Where this is said to be But just the Primer to a life Unopened rare Upon the Shelf Clasped yet to Him and Me And yet My Primer suits me so I would not choose a Book to know Than […]...
36. I watcher her face to see which way I watcher her face to see which way She took the awful news Whether she died before she heard Or in protracted bruise Remained a few slow years with us Each heavier than the last A further afternoon to fail, As Flower at fall of Frost....
37. Recollect the Face of me Recollect the Face of me When in thy Felicity, Due in Paradise today Guest of mine assuredly Other Courtesies have been Other Courtesy may be We commend ourselves to thee Paragon of Chivalry....
38. Me come! My dazzled face Me come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me hear! My foreign Ear The sounds of Welcome there! The Saints forget Our bashful feet My Holiday, shall be That They remember me My Paradise the fame That They pronounce my name...
39. What would I give to see his face? What would I give to see his face? I’d give I’d give my life of course But that is not enough! Stop just a minute let me think! I’d give my biggest Bobolink! That makes two Him and Life! You know who “June” is I’d give her Roses a day from Zanzibar And Lily tubes […]...
40. Her face was in a bed of hair Her face was in a bed of hair, Like flowers in a plot Her hand was whiter than the sperm That feeds the sacred light. Her tongue more tender than the tune That totters in the leaves Who hears may be incredulous, Who witnesses, believes....