Mary McNeely

Related poetry:

1. Paul McNeely Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill) In your nurse’s cap and linen cuffs, And took my hand and said with a smile: “You are not so ill you’ll soon be well.” And how the liquid thought of your eyes Sank in my eyes like dew […]...
2. Washington McNeely Rich, honored by my fellow citizens, The father of many children, born of a noble mother, All raised there In the great mansion-house, at the edge of town. Note the cedar tree on the lawn! I sent all the boys to Ann Arbor, all of the girls to Rockford, The while my life went on, […]...
3. The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love “Trust love even if it brings sorrow. Do not close up your heart.” “Ah no, my friend, your words are Dark, I cannot understand them.” “Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop, While it laughs it dies. But sorrow is Strong and abiding. Let sorrowful Love wake in your eyes.” “Ah no, my friend, your words […]...
4. Hymn 54 Electing grace; or, Saints beloved in Christ. Eph. 1:3ff. Jesus, we bless thy Father’s name; Thy God and ours are both the same; What heav’nly blessings from his throne Flow down to sinners through his Son! “Christ be my first elect,” he said, Then chose our souls in Christ our head, Before he gave the […]...
5. Jeremy Carlisle Passer-by, sin beyond any sin Is the sin of blindness of souls to other souls. And joy beyond any joy is the joy Of having the good in you seen, and seeing the good At the miraculous moment! Here I confess to a lofty scorn, And an acrid skepticism. But do you remember the liquid […]...
6. Song of the Son Pour O pour that parting soul in song O pour it in the sawdust glow of night Into the velvet pine-smoke air tonight, And let the valley carry it along. And let the valley carry it along. O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree, So scant of grass, so proligate of pines, Now […]...
7. MY GODDESS SAY, which Immortal Merits the highest reward? With none contend I, But I will give it To the aye-changing, Ever-moving Wondrous daughter of Jove. His best-beloved offspring. Sweet Phantasy. For unto her Hath he granted All the fancies which erst To none allow’d he Saving himself; Now he takes his pleasure In the mad one. […]...
8. On my Sister Joanna's Entrance into Her 33rd Year On this thy natal day permit a friend – A brother – with thy joys his own to blend: In all gladness he would wish to share As willing in thy griefs a part to bear. Meekly attend the ways of higher heav’n! Is much deny’d? Yet much my dear is giv’n. Thy health, thy […]...
9. Highland Mary Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich […]...
10. Requiescat Strew on her roses, roses, And never a spray of yew! In quiet she reposes; Ah, would that I did too! Her mirth the world required; She bathed it in smiles of glee. But her heart was tired, tired, And now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, In mazes of heat and […]...
11. 384. Song-Highland Mary YE banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery! Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie: There Simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last Farewell O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom’d the gay, green birk, How rich […]...
12. Yesterday My friend says I was not a good son You understand I say yes I understand He says I did not go To see my parents very often you know And I say yes I know Even when I was living in the same city he says Maybe I would go there once A month […]...
13. The Lost Friend The people take the thing of course, They marvel not to see This strange, unnatural divorce Betwixt delight and me. I know the face of sorrow, and I know Her voice with all its varied cadences; Which way she turns and treads; how at her ease Things fit her dreary largess to bestow. Where sorrow […]...
14. Hymn to the Night I heard the trailing garments of the Night Sweep through her marble halls! I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light From the celestial walls! I felt her presence, by its spell of might, Stoop o’er me from above; The calm, majestic presence of the Night, As of the one I love. I heard […]...
15. 294. Song-To Mary in Heaven THOU ling’ring star, with lessening ray, That lov’st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher’st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See’st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour […]...
16. If Mary Had Known If Mary had known When she held her Babe’s hands in her own­ Little hands that were tender and white as a rose, All dented with dimples from finger to wrist, Such as mothers have kissed­ That one day they must feel the fierce blows Of a hatred insane, Must redden with holiest stain, And […]...
17. 371. Song-Lady Mary Ann O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the Castle wa’, She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’, The youngest he was the flower amang them a’, My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s growin’ yet. O father, O father, an ye think it fit, We’ll send him a year to the college yet, We’ll sew […]...
18. Mary smith Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith, There used to live a pretty girl whose name was Mary Smith; And though it’s many years since last I saw that pretty girl, And though I feel I’m sadly worn by Western strife and whirl; Still, oftentimes, I think about the old familiar […]...
19. The Dandelion's pallid tube The Dandelion’s pallid tube Astonishes the Grass, And Winter instantly becomes An infinite Alas The tube uplifts a signal Bud And then a shouting Flower, The Proclamation of the Suns That sepulture is o’er....
20. Robert Davidson I grew spiritually fat living off the souls of men. If I saw a soul that was strong I wounded its pride and devoured its strength. The shelters of friendship knew my cunning, For where I could steal a friend I did so. And wherever I could enlarge my power By undermining ambition, I did […]...
21. In memory of that excellent person Mrs. Mary Lloyd of Bodidrist in Denbigh-shire I CANNOT hold, for though to write were rude, Yet to be silent were Ingratitude, And Folly too; for if Posterity Should never hear of such a one as thee, And onely know this Age’s brutish fame, They would think Vertue nothing but a Name. And though far abler Pens must her define, Yet her […]...
22. Felo de Se With Apologies to Mr. Swinburne. For repose I have sighed and have struggled ; have sigh’d and have struggled in vain; I am held in the Circle of Being and caught in the Circle of Pain. I was wan and weary with life ; my sick soul yearned for death; I was weary of women […]...
23. The Orphan My father and mother are dead, Nor friend, nor relation I know; And now the cold earth is their bed, And daisies will over them grow. I cast my eyes into the tomb, The sight made me bitterly cry; I said, “And is this the dark room, Where my father and mother must lie?” I […]...
24. Hymn 22 part 1 Christ the eternal life. Rom. 9:5. Jesus, our Savior and our God, Arrayed in majesty and blood, Thou art our life; our souls in thee Possess a full felicity. All our immortal hopes are laid In thee, our surety and our head; Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne, Are big with glories yet unknown. […]...
25. Much Like Me Much like me, you make your way forward, Walking with downturned eyes. Well, I too kept mine lowered. Passer-by, stop here, please. Read, when you’ve picked your nosegay Of henbane and poppy flowers, That I was once called Marina, And discover how old I was. Don’t think that there’s any grave here, Or that I’ll […]...
26. A Lover's Call XXVII Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you As infants look upon the breast of their mothers? Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice? […]...
27. Herbert Marshall All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me Sprang from your delusion that it was wantonness Of spirit and contempt of your soul’s rights Which made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you. You really grew to hate me for love of me, Because I was your soul’s happiness, Formed and tempered To solve your […]...
28. Le Roy Goldman “What will you do when you come to die, If all your life long you have rejected Jesus, And know as you lie there, He is not your friend?” Over and over I said, I, the revivalist. Ah, yes! but there are friends and friends. And blessed are you, say I, who know all now, […]...
29. Dream Song 127: Again, his friend's death made the man sit still Again, his friend’s death made the man sit still And freeze inside—his daughter won first price— His wife scowled over at him— It seemed to be Hallowe’en. His friend’s death had been adjudged suicide, Which dangles a trail Longer than Henry’s chill, longer than his loss And longer than the letter that he wrote That […]...
30. Veni, Creator Spiritus Creator Spirit, by whose aid The world’s foundations first were laid, Come, visit ev’ry pious mind; Come, pour thy joys on human kind; From sin, and sorrow set us free; And make thy temples worthy Thee. O, Source of uncreated Light, The Father’s promis’d Paraclete! Thrice Holy Fount, thrice Holy Fire, Our hearts with heav’nly […]...
31. I have no Life but this I have no Life but this To lead it here Nor any Death but lest Dispelled from there Nor tie to Earths to come Nor Action new Except through this extent The Realm of you...
32. An Elegy On The Glory Of Her Sex, Mrs Mary Blaize Good people all, with one accord Lament for Madam Blaize, Who never wanted a good word,- From those who spoke her praise. The needy seldom passed her door, And always found her kind; She freely lent to all the poor,- Who left a pledge behind. She strove the neighbourhood to please With manners wondrous winning; […]...
33. Archibald Higbie I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you, I was ashamed of you. I despised you As the place of my nativity. And there in Rome, among the artists, Speaking Italian, speaking French, I seemed to myself at times to be free Of every trace of my origin. I seemed to be […]...
34. Mary Ellen It’s mighty quiet in the house Since Mary Ellen quit me cold; I’ve swept the hearth and fed the mouse That’s getting fat and overbold. I’ve bought a pig’s foot for the pot And soon I’ll set the fire alight; Then I may eat or I may not, Depends upon my appetite. Since Mary Ellen […]...
35. The Gift I THOUGHT, beloved, to have brought to you A gift of quietness and ease and peace, Cooling your brow as with the mystic dew Dropping from twilight trees. Homeward I go not yet; the darkness grows; Not mine the voice to still with peace divine: From the first fount the stream of quiet flows Through […]...
36. Edmund Pollard I would I had thrust my hands of flesh Into the disk-flowers bee-infested, Into the mirror-like core of fire Of the light of life, the sun of delight. For what are anthers worth or petals Or halo-rays? Mockeries, shadows Of the heart of the flower, the central flame! All is yours, young passer-by; Enter the […]...
37. Mary Morison O Mary, at thy window be, It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser’s treasure poor: How blythely wad I bide the stour, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen, when to the trembling […]...
38. Time and Grief O TIME! who know’st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow’s wound, and slowly thence (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o’er all my soul […]...
39. The Hour of Twilight WHEN the unquiet hours depart And far away their tumults cease, Within the twilight of the heart We bathe in peace, are stilled with peace. The fire that slew us through the day For angry deed or sin of sense Now is the star and homeward ray To us who bow in penitence. We kiss […]...
40. Beautiful Old Age It ought to be lovely to be old To be full of the peace that comes of experience And wrinkled ripe fulfilment. The wrinkled smile of completeness that follows a life Lived undaunted and unsoured with accepted lies They would ripen like apples, and be scented like pippins In their old age. Soothing, old people […]...