Three Quatrains

Related poetry:

1. Two Quatrains I As eons of incalculable strife Are in the vision of one moment caught, So are the common, concrete things of life Divinely shadowed on the walls of Thought. II We shriek to live, but no man ever lives Till he has rid the ghost of human breath; We dream to die, but no man […]...
2. Quatrains One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar, To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star; It lies with thee the choice is thine, is thine, To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car. I answered Her: The choice is mine ah, no! We all were made or marred long, long ago. The […]...
3. Nero's Term Nero was not worried when he heard The prophecy of the Delphic Oracle. “Let him fear the seventy three years.” He still had ample time to enjoy himself. He is thirty. More than sufficient Is the term the god allots him To prepare for future perils. Now he will return to Rome slightly tired, But […]...
4. I Went I did not restrain myself. I let go entirely and went. To the pleasures that were half real And half wheeling in my brain, I went into the lit night. And I drank of potent wines, such as The valiant of voluptuousness drink....
5. I had the Glory that will do I had the Glory that will do An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite With one long “Nay” Bliss’ early shape Deforming Dwindling Gulfing up Time’s possibility....
6. Bregalad's Lament O Orofarne, Lassemista, Carnimirie! O rowan fair, upon your hair how white the blossom lay! O rowan mine, I saw you shine upon a summer’s day, Your rind so bright, your leaves so light, your voice so cool and soft! Upon your head how golden-red the crown you bare aloft! O rowan dead, upon your […]...
7. Mystery Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses Of Egypt filled For a God’s excesses. I lift to you My bowl of kisses, And through the temple’s Blue recesses Cry out to you In wild caresses. And to my lips’ Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my […]...
8. Necrological The friar had said his paternosters duly And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept; But with much riddling his head became unruly, He arose, from the quiet monastery he crept. Dawn lightened the place where the battle had been won. The people were dead it is easy he thought to die These dead […]...
9. Unfulfilled to Observation Unfulfilled to Observation Incomplete to Eye But to Faith a Revolution In Locality Unto Us the Suns extinguish To our Opposite New Horizons they embellish Fronting Us with Night....
10. The Haymakers' Song HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink! Now here ‘s to him that stacks it, Drink, lads, drink! That thrashes […]...
11. Death Fugue Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown We drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night We drink it and drink it We dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents he writes He writes when […]...
12. DRINKING SONG INSCRIPTION FOR AN ANTIQUE PITCHER Come, old friend! sit down and listen! From the pitcher, placed between us, How the waters laugh and glisten In the head of old Silenus! Old Silenus, bloated, drunken, Led by his inebriate Satyrs; On his breast his head is sunken, Vacantly he leers and chatters. Fauns with youthful Bacchus […]...
13. Aladdin and the Jinn “Bring me soft song,” said Aladdin. “This tailor-shop sings not at all. Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish That will comfort the stale and the sad, For I would be mending my spirit, Forgetting these days that are bad, Forgetting companions […]...
14. Mad As The Mist And Snow Bolt and bar the shutter, For the foul winds blow: Our minds are at their best this night, And I seem to know That everything outside us is Mad as the mist and snow. Horace there by Homer stands, Plato stands below, And here is Tully’s open page. How many years ago Were you and […]...
15. Strings in the Earth and Air Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river For Love wanders there, Pale flowers on his mantle, Dark leaves on his hair. All softly playing, With head to the music bent, And fingers straying Upon an instrument....
16. Carrowmore IT’S a lonely road through bogland to the lake at Carrowmore, And a sleeper there lies dreaming where the water laps the shore; Though the moth-wings of the twilight in their purples are unfurled, Yet his sleep is filled with music by the masters of the world. There’s a hand is white as silver that […]...
17. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
18. Remarks About Kings “God said I am tired of kings.” EMERSON God said, “I am tired of kings,” But that was a long while ago! And meantime man said, “No, I like their looks in their robes and rings.” So he crowned a few more, And they went on playing the game as before, Fighting and spoiling things. […]...
19. ABOUT WHAT RUNS AWAY To think that Spinoza died polishing eyeglasses. That Blake got tired at a printer’s shop Waiting for that day’s conversation with the angels. That just to live Baudelaire humiliated before his mother. That Rimbaud was silenced by Rimbaud So that his candor talked to me about literature. As if something else were possible other than […]...
20. THE MAYPOLE The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I’ll drink to the garlands around it; But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown’d it. A health to my girls, Whose husbands may earls Or lords be, granting my wishes, And when that ye wed To the bridal bed, […]...
21. Why Is This Age Worse…? Why is this age worse than earlier ages? In a stupor of grief and dread Have we not fingered the foulest wounds And left them unhealed by our hands? In the west the falling light still glows, And the clustered housetops glitter in the sun, But here Death is already chalking the doors with crosses, […]...
22. Self-Portrait, 1969 He’s still young ; thirty, but looks younger Or does he?… In the eyes and cheeks, tonight, Turning in the mirror, he saw his mother, Puffy; angry; bewildered… Many nights, Now, when he stares there, he gets angry: Something unfulfilled there, something dead To what he once thought he surely could be Now, just the […]...
23. Talk with prudence to a Beggar Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines! Cautious, hint to any Captive You have passed enfranchised feet! Anecdotes of air in Dungeons Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!...
24. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES Honour to you who sit Near to the well of wit, And drink your fill of it! Glory and worship be To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, Who still inspire me; And teach me how to sing Unto the lyric string, My measures ravishing! Then, while I sing your praise, My priest-hood crown with bays […]...
25. Monotones Because there is but one truth; Because there is but one banner; Because there is but one light; Because we have with us our youth Once, and one chance and one manner Of service, and then the night; Because we have found not yet Any way for the world to follow Save only that ancient […]...
26. The Lover in Hell Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil. . . . How merry Those little devils are! They’ve stolen the pitchfork From Bel, there, as he slept. . . Look! oh look, look! They’ve got at Nero! Oh it isn’t fair! Lord, how he squeals! Stop it. . . it’s, […]...
27. The "happy isles" of horace Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the golden haze off yonder, Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles, And the ocean loves to wander. Fragrant the vines that mantle those hills, Proudly the fig rejoices; Merrily dance the virgin rills, Blending their myriad voices. Our herds shall fear no evil there, […]...
28. The Song Of Shadows “Sweep thy faint strings, Musician, With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn, Sinks soft the waning sand; The old hound whimpers couched in sleep, The embers smoulder low; Across the walls the shadows Come, and go. Sweep softly thy strings, Musician, The minutes mount to hours; Frost on the windless casement weaves […]...
29. Au Bal [Dedicated to Horace Sheridan-Bickers] A vision of flushed faces, shining limbs, The madness of the music that entrances All life in its delirium of dances! The white world glitters in the void, and swims Through the infinite seas of transcendental trances. Yea! all the hoarded seed of all my fancies Bursts in a shower of […]...
30. EPIPHANIAS THE three holy kings with their star’s bright ray, They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay; They like to eat and drink away, They eat and drink, but had rather not pay. The three holy kings have all come here, In number not four, but three they appear; And if a fourth […]...
31. The Tide of Sorrow ON the twilight-burnished hills I lie and long and gaze Where below the grey-lipped sands drink in the flowing tides, Drink, and fade and disappear: interpreting their ways A seer in my heart abides. Once the diamond dancing day-waves laved thy thirsty lips: Now they drink the dusky night-tide running cold and fleet, Drink, and […]...
32. Champagne, 1914-15 In the glad revels, in the happy fetes, When cheeks are flushed, and glasses gilt and pearled With the sweet wine of France that concentrates The sunshine and the beauty of the world, Drink sometimes, you whose footsteps yet may tread The undisturbed, delightful paths of Earth, To those whose blood, in pious duty shed, […]...
33. The Rosary Not on the lute, nor harp of many strings Shall all men praise the Master of all song. Our life is brief, one saith, and art is long; And skilled must be the laureates of kings. Silent, O lips that utter foolish things! Rest, awkward fingers striking all notes wrong! How from your toil shall […]...
34. The Sunken Crown Nothing will hold him longer-let him go; Let him go down where others have gone down; Little he cares whether we smile or frown, Or if we know, or if we think we know. The call is on him for his overthrow, Say we; so let him rise, or let him drown. Poor fool! He […]...
35. Divine Detachment One day the Great Designer sought His Clerk of Birth and Death. Said he: “Two souls are in my thought, To whom I gave life-breath. I deemed my work was fitly done, But yester-eve I saw That in the finished brain of one There was a tiny flaw. “It worried me, and I would know, […]...
36. Cupid Mistaken As after noon, one summer’s day, Venus stood bathing in a river; Cupid a-shooting went that way, New strung his bow, new fill’d his quiver. With skill he chose his sharpest dart: With all his might his bow he drew: Swift to his beauteous parent’s heart The too well-guided arrow flew. I faint! I die! […]...
37. Joseph Dixon Who carved this shattered harp on my stone? I died to you, no doubt. But how many harps and pianos Wired I and tightened and disentangled for you, Making them sweet again with tuning fork or without? Oh well! A harp leaps out of the ear of a man, you say, But whence the ear […]...
38. Wine Bibber I would rather drink than eat, And though I superbly sup, Food, I feel, can never beat Delectation of the cup. Wine it is that crowns the feast; Fish and fowl and fancy meat Are of my delight the least: I would rather drink than eat. Though no Puritan I be, And have doubts of […]...
39. When Dacey rode the Mule ‘TWAS to a small, up-country town, When we were boys at school, There came a circus with a clown, Likewise a bucking mule. The clown announced a scheme they had Spectators for to bring – They’d give a crown to any lad Who’d ride him round the ring. And, gentle reader, do not scoff Nor […]...
40. Ballade of an Omnibus “To see my love suffices me.” Ballades in Blue China. Some men to carriages aspire; On some the costly hansoms wait; Some seek a fly, on job or hire; Some mount the trotting steed, elate. I envy not the rich and great, A wandering minstrel, poor and free, I am contented with my fate An […]...