Mutability

Related poetry:

1. Mutability When I bethink me on that speech whilere, Of Mutability, and well it weigh: Me seems, that though she all unworthy were Of the Heav’ns Rule; yet very sooth to say, In all things else she bears the greatest sway. Which makes me loathe this state of life so tickle, And love of things so […]...
2. The Dream Love, if I weep it will not matter, And if you laugh I shall not care; Foolish am I to think about it, But it is good to feel you there. Love, in my sleep I dreamed of waking,- White and awful the moonlight reached Over the floor, and somewhere, somewhere, There was a shutter […]...
3. Mutability They say there’s a high windless world and strange, Out of the wash of days and temporal tide, Where Faith and Good, Wisdom and Truth abide, ‘Aeterna corpora’, subject to no change. There the sure suns of these pale shadows move; There stand the immortal ensigns of our war; Our melting flesh fixed Beauty there, […]...
4. Sonnet XXXVIII: Sitting Alone, Love Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write; Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay, Boasting that she doth still direct the way, Or else Love were unable to endite. Love, growing angry, vexed at the spleen And scorning Reason’s maimed argument, Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent, Where she with Love conversing hath not […]...
5. Dream Land Where sunless rivers weep Their waves into the deep, She sleeps a charmed sleep: Awake her not. Led by a single star, She came from very far To seek where shadows are Her pleasant lot. She left the rosy morn, She left the fields of corn, For twilight cold and lorn And water springs. Through […]...
6. Time XXI And an astronomer said, “Master, what of Time?” And he answered: You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable. You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons. Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing. […]...
7. Oh! Weep for Those I. Oh! Weep for those that wept by Babel’s stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream, Weep for the harp of Judah’s broken shell Mourn where their God that dwelt the Godless dwell! II. And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion’s songs agains seem sweet? And Judah’s melody […]...
8. Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like […]...
9. On a Hill-top BEARDED with dewy grass the mountains thrust Their blackness high into the still grey light, Deepening to blue: far up the glimmering height In silver transience shines the starry dust. Silent the sheep about me; fleece by fleece They sleep and stir not: I with awe around Wander uncertain o’er the giant mound, A fire […]...
10. The Captive's Dream Methought I saw him but I knew him not; He was so changed from what he used to be, There was no redness on his woe-worn cheek, No sunny smile upon his ashy lips, His hollow wandering eyes looked wild and fierce, And grief was printed on his marble brow, And O I thought he […]...
11. Some time Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh! I love you so You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know! Some time […]...
12. A Dream Within A Dream Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? […]...
13. Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright Sleep! sleep! beauty bright, Dreaming o’er the joys of night; Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep. Sweet Babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. As thy softest limbs I feel, Smiles as of the morning steal O’er thy cheek, and […]...
14. The Deepest Dream The deepest dream is of mad governors, Down, down we feel it, till the very crust Of the world cracks, and where there was no dust, Atoms of ruin rise. Confusion stirs, And fear; and all our thoughts dark scavengers Feed on the center’s refuse. Hope is thrust Like wind away, and love sinks into […]...
15. Sleep Sleep, when a soul that her own clouds cover Wails that sorrow should always keep Watch, nor see in the gloom above her Sleep, Down, through darkness naked and steep, Sinks, and the gifts of his grace recover Soon the soul, though her wound be deep. God beloved of us, all men’s lover, All most […]...
16. On the Death of Robert Browning He held no dream worth waking; so he said, He who stands now on death’s triumphal steep, Awakened out of life wherein we sleep And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead. But never death for him was dark or dread; “Look forth,” he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep, All ye […]...
17. Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low And soonest […]...
18. Sonnet IX: As Other Men As other men, so I myself do muse Why in this sort I wrest invention so, And why these giddy metaphors I use, Leaving the path the greater part do go. I will resolve you: I am lunatic, And ever this in madmen you shall find, What they last thought of when the brain grew […]...
19. You Don't Believe You don’t believe I won’t attempt to make ye: You are asleep I won’t attempt to wake ye. Sleep on! sleep on! while in your pleasant dreams Of Reason you may drink of Life’s clear streams. Reason and Newton, they are quite two things; For so the swallow and the sparrow sings. Reason says ‘Miracle’: […]...
20. The Arrow I thought of your beauty, and this arrow, Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow. There’s no man may look upon her, no man, As when newly grown to be a woman, Tall and noble but with face and bosom Delicate in colour as apple blossom. This beauty’s kinder, yet for a […]...
21. Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour Light the first light of evening, as in a room In which we rest and, for small reason, think The world imagined is the ultimate good. This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous. It is in that thought that we collect ourselves, Out of all the indifferences, into one thing: Within a single thing, a single […]...
22. Rhythm of Life The clock is silent Nowadays clocks no longer Need to make That rhythmic sound of life. We have moved on And everything is changed I am no longer sad I don’t weep for you. In still moments I see you solitary, reflective- Running with the wind along the waterfront With your Walkman on. Radiowaves carry […]...
23. To Himself Now will you rest forever, My tired heart. Dead is the last Deception, That I thought eternal. Dead. Well I Feel In us the sweet illusions, Nothing but ash, desire burned out. Rest forever. You have Trembled enough. Nothing is worth Thy beats, nor does the earth Deserve Thy sighs. Bitter and dull Is life, […]...
24. Comparisons CHILD, when they say that others Have been or are like you, Babes fit to be your brothers, Sweet human drops of dew, Bright fruit of mortal mothers, What should one say or do? We know the thought is treason, We feel the dream absurd; A claim rebuked of reason, That withers at a word: […]...
25. Dreams While on my lonely couch I lie, I seldom feel myself alone, For fancy fills my dreaming eye With scenes and pleasures of its own. Then I may cherish at my breast An infant’s form beloved and fair, May smile and soothe it into rest With all a Mother’s fondest care. How sweet to feel […]...
26. The Beer Was Cold Enough It is amazing, while I lay in bed, I had the lines Roaring through my head like locusts on the wing, The unabashed extravagance of such a flock Of stunning words shocked me out of brittle sleep; And sleep avoids me now like something way too out of vogue, So I rise and try to […]...
27. Dead Men's Love There was a damned successful Poet; There was a Woman like the Sun. And they were dead. They did not know it. They did not know their time was done. They did not know his hymns Were silence; and her limbs, That had served Love so well, Dust, and a filthy smell. And so one […]...
28. The Dream Dear love, for nothing less than thee Would I have broke this happy dream; It was a theme For reason, much too strong for phantasy: Therefore thou waked’st me wisely; yet My dream thou brok’st not, but continued’st it. Thou art so truth that thoughts of thee suffice To make dreams truths, and fables histories. […]...
29. Giant Toad I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me. My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great beauty, even So. They see too much, above, below. And yet, there is not much To see. The rain has stopped. The mist is gathering on my skin In drops. The drops run down my […]...
30. From 'Pauline&#039 O God, where does this tend-these struggling aims? What would I have? What is this ‘sleep’, which seems To bound all? can there be a ‘waking’ point Of crowning life? The soul would never rule – It would be first in all things-it would have Its utmost pleasure filled,-but that complete Commanding for commanding sickens […]...
31. The Pannikin Poet There’s nothing here sublime, But just a roving rhyme, Run off to pass the time, With nought titanic in. The theme that it supports, And, though it treats of quarts, It’s bare of golden thoughts It’s just a pannikin. I think it’s rather hard That each Australian bard Each wan, poetic card With thoughts galvanic […]...
32. Be Still, My Soul, Be Still Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle, Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong. Think rather, call to thought, if now you grieve a little, The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long. Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry […]...
33. Infidelity Three Triangles TRIANGLE ONE My husband put some poison in my beer, And fondly hoped that I would drink it up. He would get rid of me – no bloody fear, For when his back was turned I changed the cup. He took it all, and if he did not die, Its just because he’s […]...
34. Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer's Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe This pleasant tale is like a little copse: The honied lines so freshly interlace, To keep the reader in so sweet a place, So that he here and there full-hearted stops; And oftentimes he feels the dewy drops Come cool and suddenly against his face, And, by the wandering melody, may trace Which way the […]...
35. When He Who Adores Thee When he, who adores thee, has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, Oh! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Of a life that for thee was resign’d? Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree; For Heaven can witness, though guilty […]...
36. Reason and Passion XV And the priestess spoke again and said: “Speak to us of Reason and Passion.” And he answered saying: Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and […]...
37. Stanzas For Music: There's Not A Joy The World Can Give There’s not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines in feeling’s dull decay; ‘Tis not on youth’s smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past. Then the few whose spirits […]...
38. Hate I had a bitter enemy, His heart to hate he gave, And when I died he swore that he Would dance upon my grave; That he would leap and laugh because A livid corpse was I, And that’s the reason why I was In no great haste to die. And then – such is the […]...
39. The Chimney Sweeper (Innocence) When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry weep weep weep weep, So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep. Theres little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head That curled like a lambs back was shav’d, so I said. Hush […]...
40. Nimium Fortunatus I have lain in the sun I have toil’d as I might, I have thought as I would, And now it is night. My bed full of sleep, My heart full of content For friends that I met The way that I went. I welcome fatigue While frenzy and care Like thin summer clouds Go […]...