The Forest Reverie

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1. In The Forest HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead, Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red, Here let us burn them in noon’s flaming torches of fire. We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long […]...
2. Sing To Me Sing to me! Something of sunlight and bloom, I am so compassed with sorrow and gloom, I am so sick with the world’s noisse and strife, – Sing of the beauty and brightness of life – Sing to me, sing to me! Sing to me! Something that’s jubilant, glad! I am so weary, my soul […]...
3. In the Black Forest I lay beneath the pine trees, And looked aloft, where, through The dusky, clustered tree-tops, Gleamed rent, gay rifts of blue. I shut my eyes, and a fancy Fluttered my sense around: “I lie here dead and buried, And this is churchyard ground. “I am at rest for ever; Ended the stress and strife.” Straight […]...
4. V. R. 1819-1901 (A Reverie.) Moments the mightiest pass calendared, And when the Absolute In backward Time outgave the deedful word Whereby all life is stirred: “Let one be born and throned whose mould shall constitute The norm of every royal-reckoned attribute,” No mortal knew or heard. But in due days the purposed Life outshone – Serene, sagacious, free; Her […]...
5. The Curse Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows across the sea. And I shall meet a fisherman Out of Capri, And he will say, seeing me, “What a Strange Thing! Like a fish’s scale or a Butterfly’s wing.” Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows away the fog. And I shall meet […]...
6. Pine Forest Let us go now into the forest. Trees will pass by your face, And I will stop and offer you to them, But they cannot bend down. The night watches over its creatures, Except for the pine trees that never change: The old wounded springs that spring Blessed gum, eternal afternoons. If they could, the […]...
7. An Autumn Reverie Alas! Beautiful Summer now hath fled, And the face of Nature doth seem dead, And the leaves are withered, and falling off the trees, By the nipping and chilling autumnal breeze. The pleasures of the little birds are all fled, And with the cold many of them will be found dead, Because the leaves of […]...
8. Dream-Forest Where sunshine flecks the green, Through towering woods my way Goes winding all the day. Scant are the flowers that bloom Beneath the bosky screen And cage of golden gloom. Few are the birds that call, Shrill-voiced and seldom seen. Where silence masters all, And light my footsteps fall, The whispering runnels only With blazing […]...
9. Sonnet LII So am I as the rich, whose blessed key Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in the long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly […]...
10. Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key So am I as the rich whose blessèd key Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure, The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure. Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, Since, seldom coming, in that long year set, Like stones of worth they thinly […]...
11. Reverie, with Fries Straight-spined girl-yes, you of the glinting earrings, Amber skin and sinuous hair: what happened? You’ve no business lunching with sticky children Here at McDonald’s. Are they yours? How old were you when you had them? You are far too dazzling to be their mother, Though I hear them spluttering Mommy Mommy Over the Muzak. Do […]...
12. My Springs In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know Two springs that with unbroken flow Forever pour their lucent streams Into my soul’s far Lake of Dreams. Not larger than two eyes, they lie Beneath the many-changing sky And mirror all of life and time, Serene and dainty pantomime. Shot through with lights of […]...
13. A Clasp Of Hands SOFT, small, and sweet as sunniest flowers That bask in heavenly heat When bud by bud breaks, breathes, and cowers, Soft, small, and sweet. A babe’s hands open as to greet The tender touch of ours And mock with motion faint and fleet The minutes of the new strange hours That earth, not heaven, must […]...
14. In Youth I have Known One How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature’s universal throne; Her woods – her winds – her mountains – the intense Reply of Hers to Our intelligence! I. In youth I have known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held – as he with it, In daylight, and in beauty, from […]...
15. A Dead Rose O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat, – Kept seven years in a drawer – thy titles shame thee. The breeze that used to blow thee Between the hedgerow thorns, and take away An odour up the lane to […]...
16. Stanzas How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature’s universal throne; Her woods – her wilds – her mountains – the intense Reply of HERS to OUR intelligence! [BYRON, The Island.] I In youth have I known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held – as he with it, In daylight, and […]...
17. Goodbye! Come, thrust your hands in the warm earth And feel her strength through all your veins; Breathe her full odors, taste her mouth, Which laughs away imagined pains; Touch her life’s womb, yet know This substance makes your grave also. Shrink not; your flesh is no more sweet Than flowers which daily blow and die; […]...
18. A Forest Hymn The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them, – ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the […]...
19. Sonnet XXI WAs it the worke of nature or of Art? Which tempred so the feature of her face: That pride and meeknesse mixt by equall part, Doe both appeare t’adorne her beauties grace. For with mild pleasance, which doth pride displace, She to her loues doth lookers eyes allure: & with sterne countenance back again doth […]...
20. I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair I. I DREAMED of forest alleys fair And fields of gray-flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon My Jenny seemed to pass. I dreamed the yellow summer moon, Behind a cedar wood, Lay white on fields of rippling grass Where I and Jenny stood. I dreamed – but fallen through my dream, In a […]...
21. Sonnet XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse Making a couplement of proud compare, With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and all […]...
22. Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse So is it not with me as with that muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven it self for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and […]...
23. I know that He exists I know that He exists. Somewhere in Silence He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes. ‘Tis an instant’s play. ‘Tis a fond Ambush Just to make Bliss Earn her own surprise! But should the play Prove piercing earnest Should the glee glaze In Death’s stiff stare Would not the fun Look too […]...
24. Stanzas Written under an Oak in Windsor Forest “HERE POPE FIRST SUNG!” O, hallow’d Tree! Such is the boast thy bark displays; Thy branches, like thy Patron’s lays, Shall ever, ever, sacred be; Nor with’ring storm, nor woodman’s stroke, Shall harm the POET’S favourite Oak. ‘Twas HERE, he woo’d his MUSE of fire, While Inspiration’s wond’rous art, Sublimely stealing thro’ his heart Did […]...
25. The Stinging Nettle The stinging nettle only Will still be found to stand: The numberless, the lonely, The thronger of the land, The leaf that hurts the hand. That thrives, come sun, come showers; Blow east, blow west, it springs; It peoples towns, and towers Above the courts of Kings, And touch it and it stings....
26. A Lament My thoughts hold mortal strife; I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries Peace to my soul to bring Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize: But he, grim grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having decked with beauty’s rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and […]...
27. Opposite To Meloncholly Returne my joyes, and hither bring A tongue not made to speake but sing, A jolly spleene, an inward feast, A causelesse laugh without a jest, A face which gladnesse doth anoynt, An arm that springs out of his joynt, A sprightfull gate that leaves no print, And makes a feather of a flint, A […]...
28. A Gravestone Far from the churchyard dig his grave, On some green mound beside the wave; To westward, sea and sky alone, And sunsets. Put a mossy stone, With mortal name and date, a harp And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp; Then leave it free to winds that blow, And patient mosses creeping; slow, And wandering […]...
29. Over The Range Little bush maiden, wondering-eyed, Playing alone in the creek-bed dry, In the small green flat on every side Walled in by the Moonbi ranges high; Tell me the tale of your lonely life ‘Mid the great grey forests that know no change. “I never have left my home,” she said, “I have never been over […]...
30. Christ's Nativity 1 Awake, glad heart! get up and sing! 2 It is the birth-day of thy King. 3 Awake! awake! 4 The Sun doth shake 5 Light from his locks, and all the way 6 Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day. 7 Awake, awake! hark how th’ wood rings; 8 Winds whisper, and the busy springs […]...
31. Sonnet 96 It will seem strange, no more this range on range Of opening hopes and happenings. Strange to be One’s name no longer. Not caught up, not free. Strange, not to wish one’s wishes onward. Strange, The looseness, slopping, time and space estrange. Strangest, and sad as a blind child, not to see Ever you, never […]...
32. A Song Of Life In the rapture of life and of living, I lift up my head and rejoice, And I thank the great Giver for giving The soul of my gladness a voice. In the glow of the glorious weather, In the sweet-scented, sensuous air, My burdens seem light as a feather – They are nothing to bear. […]...
33. There is a Gentle Thought There is a gentle thought that often springs To life in me, because it speaks of you. Its reasoning about love’s so sweet and true, The heart is conquered, and accepts these things. ‘Who is this’ the mind enquires of the heart, ‘who comes here to seduce our intellect? Is his power so great we […]...
34. Sonnet XCIII So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceived husband; so love’s face May still seem love to me, though alter’d new; Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place: For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. In many’s looks the false […]...
35. Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceivèd husband; so love’s face May still seem love to me, though altered new, Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. In many’s looks, the false […]...
36. Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three […]...
37. That time of year thou mayst in me behold (Sonnet 73) That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see’st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by […]...
38. Sonnets viii THAT time of year thou may’st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang, In me thou see’st the twilight of such day As after Sunset fadeth in the West, Which by and by […]...
39. Sonnet CIV To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three […]...
40. IN THE FOREST Out of the mid-wood’s twilight Into the meadow’s dawn, Ivory limbed and brown-eyed, Flashes my Faun! He skips through the copses singing, And his shadow dances along, And I know not which I should follow, Shadow or song! O Hunter, snare me his shadow! O Nightingale, catch me his strain! Else moonstruck with music and […]...