Amoretti LXVII: Like as a Huntsman

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1. The Tamed Deer Like as a huntsman after weary chase Seeing the game from him escaped away, Sits down to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: So, after long pursuit and vain assay, When I all weary had the chase forsook, The gentle deer returned the self-same way, Thinking to quench […]...
2. Sonnet LXVII Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace, Seeing the game from him escapt away: Sits downe to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their pray. So after long pursuit and vaine assay, When I all weary had the chace forsooke, The gentle deare returnd the selfe-same way, Thinking to quench […]...
3. The Solitary Huntsman The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spur Upon his midnight mare. He drones a tuneless jingle In lieu of tally-ho: “I’ll catch a fox And put him in a box And never let him go.” The solitary huntsman, He follows silent hounds. No horn proclaims his […]...
4. THE FOX AND HUNTSMAN HARD ’tis on a fox’s traces To arrive, midst forest-glades; Hopeless utterly the chase is, If his flight the huntsman aids. And so ’tis with many a wonder, (Why A B make Ab in fact,) Over which we gape and blunder, And our head and brains distract. 1821.*...
5. The Old Huntsman I’ve never ceased to curse the day I signed A seven years’ bargain for the Golden Fleece. ‘Twas a bad deal all round; and dear enough It cost me, what with my daft management, And the mean folk as owed and never paid me, And backing losers; and the local bucks Egging me on with […]...
6. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
7. Virgin Youth Now and again All my body springs alive, And the life that is polarised in my eyes, That quivers between my eyes and mouth, Flies like a wild thing across my body, Leaving my eyes half-empty, and clamorous, Filling my still breasts with a flush and a flame, Gathering the soft ripples below my breast […]...
8. The Alpine Hunter Wilt thou not the lambkins guard? Oh, how soft and meek they look, Feeding on the grassy sward, Sporting round the silvery brook! “Mother, mother, let me go On yon heights to chase the roe!” Wilt thou not the flock compel With the horn’s inspiring notes? Sweet the echo of yon bell, As across the […]...
9. Winfreda (A BALLAD IN THE ANGLO-SAXON TONGUE) When to the dreary greenwood gloam Winfreda’s husband strode that day, The fair Winfreda bode at home To toil the weary time away; “While thou art gone to hunt,” said she, “I’ll brew a goodly sop for thee.” Lo, from a further, gloomy wood, A hungry wolf all bristling […]...
10. Amoretti III: The Sovereign Beauty The sovereign beauty which I do admire, Witness the world how worthy to be praised: The light whereof hath kindled heavenly fire In my frail spirit, by her from baseness raised; That being now with her huge brightness dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view; But looking still on her, I stand […]...
11. Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair Men call you fair, and you do credit it, For that your self ye daily such do see: But the true fair, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind, is much more prais’d of me. For all the rest, how ever fair it be, Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue: But […]...
12. Amoretti XXII: This Holy Season This holy season, fit to fast and pray, Men to devotion ought to be inclin’d: Therefore I likewise on so holy day, For my sweet saint some service fit will find. Her temple fair is built within my mind, In which her glorious image placed is, On which my thoughts do day and night attend, […]...
13. Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters Most happy letters, fram’d by skilful trade, With which that happy name was first design’d: The which three times thrice happy hath me made, With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind. The first my being to me gave by kind, From mother’s womb deriv’d by due descent, The second is my sovereign Queen most […]...
14. Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day, Didst make thy triumph over death and sin: And having harrow’d hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win: This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin, And grant that we for whom thou diddest die, Being with thy dear blood clean wash’d from […]...
15. Sonnet LXVII Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn, When beauty lived and died as flowers do now, Before the bastard signs of fair were born, Or durst inhabit on a living brow; Before the golden tresses of the dead, The right of sepulchres, were shorn away, To live a second life on second head; […]...
16. Sonnet LXVII: On Passing over a Dreary Tract Swift fleet the billowy clouds along the sky, Earth seems to shudder at the storm aghast; While only beings as forlorn as I, Court the chill horrors of the howling blast. Even round yon crumbling walls, in search of food, The ravenous Owl foregoes his evening flight, And in his cave, within the deepest wood, […]...
17. To Morning O holy virgin! clad in purest white, Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and issue forth; Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey’d dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning, salute the sun Rous’d like a huntsman to the chase, and with […]...
18. Sonnet LXIIII COmming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres: That dainty odours from them threw around For damzels fit to decke their louers bowres. Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers, Her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red: Her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures, Her louely […]...
19. Sonnet LXXXVII SInce I did leaue the presence of my loue, Many long weary dayes I haue outworne: And many nights, that slowly seemd to moue, Theyr sad protract from euening vntill morne. For when as day the heauen doth adorne, I wish that night the noyous day would end: And when as night hath vs of […]...
20. A Maypole Deprived of root, and branch and rind, Yet flowers I bear of every kind: And such is my prolific power, They bloom in less than half an hour; Yet standers-by may plainly see They get no nourishment from me. My head with giddiness goes round, And yet I firmly stand my ground: All over naked […]...
21. Loneliness Now it is Loneliness who comes at night Instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed. Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread, I watch her softly blowing out the light. Motionless sitting, neither left or right She turns, and weary, weary droops her head. She, too, is old; she, too, has […]...
22. The Stolen Child Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water-rats; There we’ve hid our faery vats, Full of berries And of reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For […]...
23. Poem 13 Behold whiles she before the altar stands Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes And blesseth her with his two happy hands, How the red roses flush vp in her cheekes, And the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne, Like crimsin dyde in grayne, That euen th’Angels which continually, About the sacred Altare doe […]...
24. 14. Song-Mary Morison O MARY, at thy window be, It is the wish’d, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser’s treasure poor: How blythely was 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 […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. Sonnet XL MArk when she smiles with amiable cheare, And tell me whereto can ye lyken it: When on each eyelid sweetly doe appeare, An hundred Graces as in shade to sit. Lykest it seemeth in my simple wit Vnto the fayre sunshine in somers day: That when a dreadfull storme away is flit, Thrugh the broad […]...
27. An excerpt from "Mass for the Day of St. Thomas Didymus&quot iiGloria Praise the wet snow Falling early. Praise the shadow My neighor’s chimney casts on the tile roof Even this gray October day that should, they say, Have been golden. Praise The invisible sun burning beyond The white cold sky, giving us Light and the chimney’s shadow. Praise God or the gods, the unknown, That […]...
28. Sonnet XLV LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene, Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew: And in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane, Most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew. Within my hart, though hardly it can shew, Thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye: The fayre Idea of your celestiall hew, And […]...
29. The Shovel Man ON the street Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across, Tied in a big knot on the scoop of cast iron Are the overalls faded from sun and rain in the ditches; Spatter of dry clay sticking yellow on his left sleeve And a flimsy shirt open at the throat, I know […]...
30. An Encounter ONCE on the kind of day called “weather breeder,” When the heat slowly hazes and the sun By its own power seems to be undone, I was half boring through, half climbing through A swamp of cedar. Choked with oil of cedar And scurf of plants, and weary and over-heated, And sorry I ever left […]...
31. Broceliande Broceliande! in the perilous beauty of silence and menacing shade, Thou art set on the shores of the sea down the haze Of horizons untravelled, unscanned. Untroubled, untouched with the woes of this world Are the moon-marshalled hosts that invade Broceliande. Only at dusk, when lavender clouds in the orient twilight disband, Vanishing where all […]...
32. Sonnet 80: O, how I faint when I of you do write O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame. But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark, […]...
33. Sonnet LXXX O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might, To make me tongue-tied, speaking of your fame! But since your worth, wide as the ocean is, The humble as the proudest sail doth bear, My saucy bark […]...
34. Ballad of the Goodly Fere Simon Zelotes speaking after the Crucifixion. Fere=Mate, Companion. Ha’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all For the priests and the gallows tree? Aye lover he was of brawny men, O’ ships and the open sea. When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man His smile was good to see, “First let these […]...
35. Sonnet Reversed Hand trembling towards hand; the amazing lights Of heart and eye. They stood on supreme heights. Ah, the delirious weeks of honeymoon! Soon they returned, and, after strange adventures, Settled at Balham by the end of June. Their money was in Can. Pacs. B. Debentures, And in Antofagastas. Still he went Cityward daily; still she […]...
36. Divine Visitation THE HEAVENS lay hold on us: the starry rays Fondle with flickering fingers brow and eyes: A new enchantment lights the ancient skies. What is it looks between us gaze on gaze; Does the wild spirit of the endless days Chase through my heart some lure that ever flies? Only I know the vast within […]...
37. A Charm Take of English earth as much As either hand may rightly clutch. In the taking of it breathe Prayer for all who lie beneath. Not the great nor well-bespoke, But the mere uncounted folk Of whose life and death is none Report or lamentation. Lay that earth upon thy heart, And thy sickness shall depart! […]...
38. The Sexes See in the babe two loveliest flowers united yet in truth, While in the bud they seem the same the virgin and the youth! But loosened is the gentle bond, no longer side by side From holy shame the fiery strength will soon itself divide. Permit the youth to sport, and still the wild desire […]...
39. Beauty be not caused It Is Beauty be not caused It Is Chase it, and it ceases Chase it not, and it abides Overtake the Creases In the Meadow when the Wind Runs his fingers thro’ it Deity will see to it That You never do it...
40. All In The Golden Afternoon All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretense Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour, Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! […]...