Two Sonnets

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1. Sonnets 01: We Talk Of Taxes, And I Call You Friend We talk of taxes, and I call you friend; Well, such you are,-but well enough we know How thick about us root, how rankly grow Those subtle weeds no man has need to tend, That flourish through neglect, and soon must send Perfume too sweet upon us and overthrow Our steady senses; how such matters […]...
2. 453. Epitaph for Mr. Walter Riddell SIC a reptile was Wat, sic a miscreant slave, That the worms ev’n d-d him when laid in his grave; “In his flesh there’s a famine,” a starved reptile cries, “And his heart is rank poison!” another replies....
3. Sonnets i SHALL I compare thee to a Summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
4. Under the Greenwood Tree Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun, And loves to live i’ the sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleas’d […]...
5. Sonnets XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
6. Sonnets XXXIII: Full many a glorious morning have I seen Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
7. A Calendar of Sonnets: March Month which the warring ancients strangely styled The month of war, as if in their fierce ways Were any month of peace! in thy rough days I find no war in Nature, though the wild Winds clash and clang, and broken boughs are piled As feet of writhing trees. The violets raise Their heads without […]...
8. To the Reader of These Sonnets Into these Loves who but for Passion looks, At this first sight here let him lay them by And seek elsewhere, in turning other books, Which better may his labor satisfy. No far-fetch’d sigh shall ever wound my breast, Love from mine eye a tear shall never wring, Nor in Ah me’s my whining sonnets […]...
9. One crown that no one seeks One crown that no one seeks And yet the highest head Its isolation coveted Its stigma deified While Pontius Pilate lives In whatsoever hell That coronation pierces him He recollects it well....
10. 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 […]...
11. WREATH OF SONNETS To Jena Woodhouse This way of minutes miserably mixed With their own blinks misunderstood By birds and trees, this eye-born sisterhood, Whose lisps and whispers ripen in betwixt, While nature hastens to complete a list Of symbols that pull down a dusty hood O’er wrinkled worlds that lately love to brood On past, not having […]...
12. 'Tis Anguish grander than Delight ‘Tis Anguish grander than Delight ‘Tis Resurrection Pain The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again. ‘Tis Transport wild as thrills the Graves When Cerements let go And Creatures clad in Miracle Go up by Two and Two....
13. Sonnets 09: Let You Not Say Of Me When I Am Old Let you not say of me when I am old, In pretty worship of my withered hands Forgetting who I am, and how the sands Of such a life as mine run red and gold Even to the ultimate sifting dust, “Behold, Here walketh passionless age!”-for there expands A curious superstition in these lands, And […]...
14. Monna Innominata: A Sonnet of Sonnets 1 Lo dм che han detto a’ dolci amici addio. – Dante Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci! – Petrarca Come back to me, who wait and watch for you: Or come not yet, for it is over then, And long it is before you come again, So far between my pleasures are and […]...
15. Sonnets From An Ungrafted Tree XLI I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find Your person fair, and feel a certain zest To bear you body’s weight upon my breast: So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clairfy the pulse and cloud the […]...
16. A Calendar of Sonnets: February Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white; And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence still; No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill, And willow stems grow daily red and bright. These are days when ancients held a rite Of expiation for the old year’s ill, And prayer to purify the new year’s will: […]...
17. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: XIII Be ahead of all parting, as though it already were Behind you, like the winter that has just gone by. For among these winters there is one so endlessly winter That only by wintering through it all will your heart survive. Be forever dead in Eurydice-more gladly arise Into the seamless life proclaimed in your […]...
18. Sonnets 07: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face When I too long have looked upon your face, Wherein for me a brightness unobscured Save by the mists of brightness has its place, And terrible beauty not to be endured, I turn away reluctant from your light, And stand irresolute, a mind undone, A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight From having looked too […]...
19. 197. Song-The Banks of the Devon HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes and flow’rs blooming fair! But the boniest flow’r on the banks of the Devon Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower, In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes […]...
20. If Death be Good (Sappho LXXIV) If death be good, Why do the gods not die? If life be ill, Why do the gods still live? If love be naught, Why do the gods still love? If love be all, What should men do but love?...
21. The successful man has thrust himself The successful man has thrust himself Through the water of the years, Reeking wet with mistakes Bloody mistakes; Slimed with victories over the lesser, A figure thankful on the shore of money. Then, with the bones of fools He buys silken banners Limned with his triumphant face; With the skins of wise men He buys […]...
22. Shakespeare And Cervantes Obit 23rd April 1616 Is it not strange that on this common date, Two titans of their age, aye of all Time, Together should renounce this mortal state, And rise like gods, unsullied and sublime? Should mutually render up the ghost, And hand n hand join Jove’s celestial host? What wondrous welcome from the scribes […]...
23. 135. Epigram on Rough Roads I’M now arrived-thanks to the gods!- Thro’ pathways rough and muddy, A certain sign that makin roads Is no this people’s study: Altho’ Im not wi’ Scripture cram’d, I’m sure the Bible says That heedless sinners shall be damn’d, Unless they mend their ways....
24. Crater Face is what we called her. The story was That her father had thrown Drano at her Which was probably true, given the way she slouched Through fifth grade, afraid of the world, recess Especially. She had acne scars Before she had acne-poxs and dips And bright red patches. I don’t remember Any report in the […]...
25. The Fitzroy Blacksmith Under the spreading deficit, The Fitzroy Smithy stands; The smith, a spendthrift man is he, With too much on his hands; But the muscles of his brawny jaw Are strong as iron bands. Pay out, pay put, from morn till night, You can hear the sovereigns go; Or you’ll hear him singing “Old Folks at […]...
26. Manufactured Gods THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden gods And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and put up A doughface god with gold earrings. The poor mutts, the pathetic slant heads, They didn’t know a little tin god Is as good as […]...
27. If This Were Faith God, if this were enough, That I see things bare to the buff And up to the buttocks in mire; That I ask nor hope nor hire, Nut in the husk, Nor dawn beyond the dusk, Nor life beyond death: God, if this were faith! Having felt thy wind in my face Spit sorrow and […]...
28. Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull Start not-nor deem my spirit fled: In me behold the only skull From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaffed like thee; I died: let earth my bones resign: Fill up-thou canst not injure me; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. Better to hold the […]...
29. Sonnets ii WHEN, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possest, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s […]...
30. Sonnets x THEN hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now; Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after loss: Ah! do not, when my heart hath ‘scaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquer’d woe; […]...
31. Dithyramb Believe me, together The bright gods come ever, Still as of old; Scarce see I Bacchus, the giver of joy, Than comes up fair Eros, the laugh-loving boy, And Phoebus, the stately, behold! They come near and nearer, The heavenly ones all The gods with their presence Fill earth as their hall! Say, how shall […]...
32. Sonnets iii WHEN to the Sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste: Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night, And weep afresh […]...
33. Sonnets xx POOR soul, the centre of my sinful earth My sinful earth these rebel powers array Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? Why so large cost, having so short a lease, Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, Eat up thy […]...
34. Sonnets xix TH’ expense of Spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait On purpose laid to […]...
35. Sonnets ix FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
36. Sonnets vi O HOW much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The Canker-blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumed tincture of the Roses, Hang on such thorns, and play […]...
37. Sonnets xiv MY love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner’s tongue doth publish everywhere. Our love was new, and then but in the spring, When I was wont to greet it with my lays; As Philomel in summer’s […]...
38. Sonnets xvi WHEN in the chronicle of wasted time I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rime In praise of Ladies dead and lovely Knights; Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best, Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, I see their antique pen would have exprest Even […]...
39. Volcanoes be in Sicily Volcanoes be in Sicily And South America I judge from my Geography Volcanos nearer here A Lava step at any time Am I inclined to climb A Crater I may contemplate Vesuvius at Home....
40. Psyche The butterfly the ancient Grecians made The soul’s fair emblem, and its only name But of the soul, escaped the slavish trade Of mortal life! For in this earthly frame Ours is the reptile’s lot, much toil, much blame, Manifold motions making little speed, And to deform and kill the things whereon we feed....