Julian Scott

Related poetry:

1. Julian and Maddalo (excerpt) I rode one evening with Count Maddalo Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand Of hillocks, heap’d from ever-shifting sand, Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, Such as from earth’s embrace the salt ooze breeds, Is this; an uninhabited sea-side, Which the lone fisher, when his […]...
2. St. Julian's Prayer TO charms and philters, secret spells and prayers, How many round attribute all their cares! In these howe’er I never can believe, And laugh at follies that so much deceive. Yet with the beauteous FAIR, ’tis very true, These WORDS, as SACRED VIRTUES, oft they view; The spell and philter wonders work in love Hearts […]...
3. 155. Epistle to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House GUDEWIFE, I MIND it weel in early date, When I was bardless, young, and blate, An’ first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh; An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh, Yet unco proud to learn: When first amang the yellow corn A man I reckon’d was, An’ wi’ the lave ilk merry […]...
4. Fleeing Away My thoughts soar not as they ought to soar, Higher and higher on soul-lent wings; But ever and often and more and more They are dragged down earthward by little things, By little troubles and little needs, As a lark might be tangled among the weeds. My purpose is not what it ought to be, […]...
5. The Oblation Ask nothing more of me, sweet; All I can give you I give. Heart of my heart, were it more, More would be laid at your feet: Love that should help you to live, Song that should spur you to soar. All things were nothing to give Once to have sense of you more, Touch […]...
6. Song VI: Cherish Life that Abideth Love is enough: cherish life that abideth, Lest ye die ere ye know him, and curse and misname him; For who knows in what ruin of all hope he hideth, On what wings of the terror of darkness he rideth? And what is the joy of man’s life that ye blame him For his bliss […]...
7. The Progress of Poetry The Farmer’s Goose, who in the Stubble, Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble; Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still, Can scarce get o’er the Barn-Door Sill: And hardly waddles forth, to cool Her Belly in the neighb’ring Pool: Nor loudly cackles at the Door; For Cackling shews the Goose is poor. But when she […]...
8. Across The Red Sky Across the red sky two birds flying, Flying with drooping wings. Silent and solitary their ominous flight. All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice, Spilling it over the evening sky. When the dark plumaged birds […]...
9. The Dying Christian to His Soul Vital spark of heav’nly flame! Quit, O quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying, O the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life. Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister Spirit, come away! What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, […]...
10. Here And Now Here, in the heart of the world, Here, in the noise and the din, Here, where our spirits were hurled To battle with sorrow and sin, This is the place and the spot For knowledge of infinite things; This is the kingdom where Thought Can conquer the prowess of kings. Wait for no heavenly life, […]...
11. Shiva There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky, She killed the pigeons of peace and security, She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men, She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty. She loads the arts with nonsense, she is very cunning Science with dreams and the state […]...
12. Two Sonnets I SAINTS have adored the lofty soul of you. Poets have whitened at your high renown. We stand among the many millions who Do hourly wait to pass your pathway down. You, so familiar, once were strange: we tried To live as of your presence unaware. But now in every road on every side We […]...
13. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
14. Wilful Missing (Deserters) There is a world outside the one you know, To which for curiousness ‘Ell can’t compare It is the place where “wilful-missings” go, As we can testify, for we are there. You may ‘ave read a bullet laid us low, That we was gathered in “with reverent care” And buried proper. But it was […]...
15. When I'm Killed When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell! So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, […]...
16. For K. R. on her Sixtieth Birthday Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you in the dark, Who round with grace this dusky arc Of the grand tour which souls must take. You who have sounded William Blake, And the still pool, to Plato’s mark, Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you […]...
17. The Release To-day within a grog-shop near I saw a newly captured linnet, Who beat against his cage in fear, And fell exhausted every minute; And when I asked the fellow there If he to sell the bird were willing, He told me with a careless air That I could have it for a shilling. And so […]...
18. Louise Smith Herbert broke our engagement of eight years When Annabelle returned to the village From the Seminary, ah me! If I had let my love for him alone It might have grown into a beautiful sorrow Who knows? filling my life with healing fragrance. But I tortured it, I poisoned it, I blinded its eyes, and […]...
19. The Immortals I killed them, but they would not die. Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or sleep, Nor guard from them nor hide in flight. Then in my agony I turned And made my hands red in their gore. In vain – for faster than I slew They […]...
20. The Awakening River The gulls are mad-in-love with the river, And the river unveils her face and smiles. In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings. She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her. He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her. There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter. […]...
21. Frustration Gazing to gold seraph wing, With wistful wonder in my eyes, A blue-behinded ape, I swing Upon the palms of Paradise. A parakeet of gaudy hue Upon a flame tree smugly rocks; Oh, we’re a precious pair, we two, I gibber while the parrot squawks. “If I had but your wings,” I sigh, “How ardently […]...
22. Going Away Walking to-day on the Common, I heard a stranger say To a friend who was standing near him, ‘Do you know I am going away? ‘ I had never seen their faces, May never see them again; Yet the words the stranger uttered, Stirred me with nameless pain. For I knew some heart would miss […]...
23. To a Very Wise Man I Fires in the dark you build; tall quivering flames In the huge midnight forest of the unknown. Your soul is full of cities with dead names, And blind-faced, earth-bound gods of bronze and stone Whose priests and kings and lust-begotten lords Watch the procession of their thundering hosts, Or guard relentless fanes with flickering […]...
24. Decline naked along the side of the house, 8 a. m., spreading sesame seed oil Over my body, Jesus, have I come To this? I once battled in dark alleys for a Laugh. Now I’m not laughing. I splash myself with oil and wonder, How many years do you want? How many days? My blood is […]...
25. A Wish I ask not that my bed of death From bands of greedy heirs be free; For these besiege the latest breath Of fortune’s favoured sons, not me. I ask not each kind soul to keep Tearless, when of my death he hears; Let those who will, if any, weep! There are worse plagues on earth […]...
26. Rosie Roberts I was sick, but more than that, I was mad At the crooked police, and the crooked game of life. So I wrote to the Chief of Police at Peoria: “I am here in my girlhood home in Spoon River, Gradually wasting away. But come and take me, I killed the son Of the merchant […]...
27. Immortality I bowed my head in anguish sore When Life made Death his bride; “Soul, we are lost forever more!” Unto my soul I cried. “Nay, waste in wailing not thy breath,” My soul replied to me, “Behold! The child of Life and Death Is Immortality!”...
28. A Baby's Death A little soul scarce fledged for earth Takes wing with heaven again for goal Even while we hailed as fresh from birth A little soul. Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll, Not knowing beyond this blind world’s girth What things are writ in heaven’s full scroll. Our fruitfulness is there but dearth, And […]...
29. In the Old Age of the Soul I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmet Brings momentary life and long-fled cunning, So to my soul grown old – Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray, Grown […]...
30. Benjamin Fraser Their spirits beat upon mine Like the wings of a thousand butterflies. I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating. I closed my eyes, yet I knew when their lashes Fringed their cheeks from downcast eyes, And when they turned their heads; And when their garments clung to them, Or fell from them, in […]...
31. Hymn 31 Christ’s presence makes death easy. Why should we start, and fear to die What timorous worms we mortals are! Death is the gate of endless joy, And yet we dread to enter there. The pains, the groans, and dying strife, Fright our approaching souls away; Still we shrink back again to life, Fond of our […]...
32. Rita Matlock Gruenberg Grandmother! You who sang to green valleys, And passed to a sweet repose at ninety-six, Here is your little Rita at last Grown old, grown forty-nine; Here stretched on your grave under the winter stars, With the rustle of oak leaves over my head; Piecing together strength for the act, Last thoughts, memories, asking how […]...
33. Lay His Sword By His Side Lay his sword by his side it hath served him too well Not to rest near his pillow below; To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell, Its point was still turn’d to a flying foe. Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death, Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave […]...
34. Hod Putt Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the indians, and who Afterwards took the bankrupt law And emergeed from it richer than ever. Myself grown tired of toil and poverty And beholding how Old Bill and others grew in wealth, Robbed a traveler one night near […]...
35. The Falconer of God I flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying. I said, “Wait on, wait on, while I ride below! I shall start a heron soon In the marsh beneath the moon A strange white heron rising with silver on its wings, Rising and crying Wordless, wondrous things; The secret of the stars, of […]...
36. Strange Jokes Well: Death is a huge omnivorous Toad Grim squatting on a twilight road. He catcheth all that Circumstance Hath tossed to him. He curseth all who upward glance As lost to him. Once in a whimsey mood he sat And talked of life, in proverbs pat, To Eve in Eden, “Death, on Life” As if […]...
37. Scented Herbage of My Breast SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves, body-leaves, growing up above me, above death, Perennial roots, tall leaves-O the winter shall not freeze you, delicate leaves, Every year shall you bloom again-out from where you retired, you shall emerge again; O I do not […]...
38. To the Garden the World TO the garden, the world, anew ascending, Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber; The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, have brought me again, Amorous, mature-all beautiful to me-all wondrous; My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays […]...
39. The Cap And Bells The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window-sill. It rose in a straight blue garment, When owls began to call: It had grown wise-tongued by thinking Of a quiet and light footfall; But the young queen would not listen; She rose […]...
40. Tides Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing Where the starlike sea gulls soar; The sun was keen and the foam was blowing High on the rocky shore. But now in the dusk the tide is turning, Lower the sea gulls soar, And the waves that rose in resistless yearning Are broken forevermore....