Two Quatrains

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1. My Dead Dream HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow. Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep? Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands […]...
2. Three Quatrains I As long as Fame’s imperious music rings Will poets mock it with crowned words august; And haggard men will clamber to be kings As long as Glory weighs itself in dust. II Drink to the splendor of the unfulfilled, Nor shudder for the revels that are done: The wines that flushed Lucullus are all […]...
3. Portrait of a Motor Car IT’S a lean car… a long-legged dog of a car… a gray-ghost eagle car. The feet of it eat the dirt of a road… the wings of it eat the hills. Danny the driver dreams of it when he sees women in red skirts and red sox in his sleep. It is in Danny’s life […]...
4. Twilight Song Through the shine, through the rain We have shared the day’s load; To the old march again We have tramped the long road; We have laughed, we have cried, And we’ve tossed the King’s crown; We have fought, we have died, And we’ve trod the day down. So it’s lift the old song Ere the […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. En-Dor “Behold there is a woman that hath a familiar spirit at En-dor.” I Samuel, xxviii. 7. The road to En-dor is easy to tread For Mother or yearning Wife. There, it is sure, we shall meet our Dead As they were even in life. Earth has not dreamed of the blessing in store For desolate […]...
7. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
8. THE OLD STRAIGHT TRACK Runs to no compass point But starts within the human heart Where travellers in twos may go As for a while it winds beside A man-made road then veers aside We met at a cross-roads once and journeyed Together for a while across a moor And then on horseback sadly you waved adieu....
9. Crazy Jane And Jack The Journeyman I know, although when looks meet I tremble to the bone, The more I leave the door unlatched The sooner love is gone, For love is but a skein unwound Between the dark and dawn. A lonely ghost the ghost is That to God shall come; I – love’s skein upon the ground, My body […]...
10. Runner, The ON a flat road runs the well-train’d runner; He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs; He is thinly clothed-he leans forward as he runs, With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d....
11. 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 […]...
12. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...
13. On Quitting How much grit do you think you’ve got? Can you quit a thing that you like a lot? You may talk of pluck; it’s an easy word, And where’er you go it is often heard; But can you tell to a jot or guess Just how much courage you now possess? You may stand to […]...
14. Death Death is a road our dearest friends have gone; Why with such leaders, fear to say, “Lead on?” Its gate repels, lest it too soon be tried, But turns in balm on the immortal side. Mothers have passed it: fathers, children; men Whose like we look not to behold again; Women that smiled away their […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. Classical Indian Explanation: Music past the hippies Past Ravi Shankar Eons before When the first Asian snake Came alive Stiffened with sound Through some empty shell Some hollow wood Some emptiness The snake Was not so much charmed As listening intently To the accidental flute To that which he knew Must be female Its empty insides Calling him With […]...
17. Now Listen to Me and I'll Tell You My Views Now listen to me and I’ll tell you my views concerning the African war, And the man who upholds any different views, the same is a ritten Pro-Boer! (Though I’m getting a little bit doubtful myself, as it drags on week after week: But it’s better not ask any questions at all let us silence […]...
18. A Prayer For My Son Bid a strong ghost stand at the head That my Michael may sleep sound, Nor cry, nor turn in the bed Till his morning meal come round; And may departing twilight keep All dread afar till morning’s back. That his mother may not lack Her fill of sleep. Bid the ghost have sword in fist: […]...
19. What do animals dream? Do they dream of past lives and unlived dreams Unspeakably human or unimaginably bestial? Do they struggle to catch in their slumber What is too slippery for the fingers of day? Are there subtle nocturnal intimations To illuminate their undreaming hours? Are they haunted by specters of regret Do they visit their dead in drowsy […]...
20. Her Eyes Up from the street and the crowds that went, Morning and midnight, to and fro, Still was the room where his days he spent, And the stars were bleak, and the nights were slow. Year after year, with his dream shut fast, He suffered and strove till his eyes were dim, For the love that […]...
21. Saints Have Adored the Lofty Soul of You 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 see […]...
22. Immortality WE must pass like smoke or live within the spirit’s fire; For we can no more than smoke unto the flame return If our thought has changed to dream, our will unto desire, As smoke we vanish though the fire may burn. Lights of infinite pity star the grey dusk of our days: Surely here […]...
23. A Death-Bed 1918 This is the State above the Law. The State exists for the State alone.” [This is a gland at the back of the jaw, And an answering lump by the collar-bone.], Some die shouting in gas or fire; Some die silent, by shell and shot. Some die desperate, caught on the wire – Some […]...
24. Theophilus By what serene malevolence of names Had you the gift of yours, Theophilus? Not even a smeared young Cyclops at his games Would have you long,-and you are one of us. Told of your deeds I shudder for your dream And they, no doubt, are few and innocent. Meanwhile, I marvel; for in you, it […]...
25. Stafford's Cabin Once there was a cabin here, and once there was a man; And something happened here before my memory began. Time has made the two of them the fuel of one flame And all we have of them is now a legend and a name. All I have to say is what an old man […]...
26. The Roman Road The Roman Road runs straight and bare As the pale parting-line in hair Across the heath. And thoughtful men Contrast its days of Now and Then, And delve, and measure, and compare; Visioning on the vacant air Helmeted legionnaires, who proudly rear The Eagle, as they pace again The Roman Road. But no tall brass-helmeted […]...
27. In the Highlands IN the highlands, in the country places, Where the old plain men have rosy faces, And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes; Where essential silence cheers and blesses, And for ever in the hill-recesses Her more lovely music Broods and dies O to mount again where erst I haunted; Where the old red hills are […]...
28. Roofs (For Amelia Josephine Burr) The road is wide and the stars are out And the breath of the night is sweet, And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet. But I’m glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my Face, And to leave the splendour of out-of-doors […]...
29. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face dark as the night Yet shining like the sun with love’s true light. I am the dark […]...
30. On the Death of a Minister His master taken from his head, Elisha saw him go; And in desponding accents said, “Ah, what must Israel do?” But he forgot the Lord who lifts The beggar to the throne; Nor knew that all Elijah’s gifts Would soon be made his own. What! when a Paul has run his course, Or when Apollos […]...
31. ON HIMSELF A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d here, Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; Long I have lasted in this world; ’tis true But yet those years that I have lived, but few. Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell, Lives not those years, but he that lives them well: One man has […]...
32. The Living Dead Since I have come to years sedate I see with more and more acumen The bitter irony of Fate, The vanity of all things human. Why, just to-day some fellow said, As I surveyed Fame’s outer portal: “By gad! I thought that you were dead.” Poor me, who dreamed to be immortal! But that’s the […]...
33. We dream it is good we are dreaming We dream it is good we are dreaming It would hurt us were we awake But since it is playing kill us, And we are playing shriek What harm? Men die externally It is a truth of Blood But we are dying in Drama And Drama is never dead Cautious We jar each other And […]...
34. Song Who hath his fancy pleased With fruits of happy sight, Let here his eyes be raised On Nature’s sweetest light; A light which doth dissever And yet unite the eyes, A light which, dying never, Is cause the looker dies. She never dies, but lasteth In life of lover’s heart; He ever dies that wasteth […]...
35. Psalm 49 part 1 v.6-14 C. M. Pride and death; or, The vanity of life and riches. Why doth the man of riches grow To insolence and pride, To see his wealth and honors flow With every rising tide? [Why doth he treat the poor with scorn, Made of the self-same clay, And boast as though his flesh was […]...
36. For The Foxes don’t feel sorry for me. I am a competent, Satisfied human being. Be sorry for the others Who Fidget Complain Who Constantly Rearrange their Lives Like Furniture. Juggling mates And Attitudes Their Confusion is Constant And it will Touch Whoever they Deal with. Beware of them: One of their Key words is “love.” And beware […]...
37. An Autograph I write my name as one, On sands by waves o’errun Or winter’s frosted pane, Traces a record vain. Oblivion’s blankness claims Wiser and better names, And well my own may pass As from the strand or glass. Wash on, O waves of time! Melt, noons, the frosty rime! Welcome the shadow vast, The silence […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. Epilogue “Why can’t you say what you mean straight out in prose?” Well, say it yourself: then say “It’s that, but more, Or less perhaps, or not that way, or not That after all.” The meaning of a song Might be an undernote; this tree might mean That leaf as much as trunk, branch, other leaves. […]...
40. Cut While Shaving It’s never quite right, he said, the way people look, The way the music sounds, the way the words are Written. It’s never quite right, he said, all the things we are Taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we Die, all the lives we live, They are never quite right, They are […]...