Pain In Pleasure

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1. Bee-attitudes in the shadow Of the flower Is the sting The bee driven by need Uses its painful gift To keep its sense of beauty In proportion It does its job with A thoughtless dedication Its honeyed world Excites no inner space Bees are not poets Who wade through words With too much brain Around their […]...
2. Pleasure XXIV Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, “Speak to us of Pleasure.” And he answered, saying: Pleasure is a freedom song, But it is not freedom. It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But […]...
3. Statuary Bees may be trusted, always, to discover the best, nay, the only Human, solution. Let me cite an instance; an event, that, Though occurring in nature, is still in itself wholly abnormal. I refer To the manner in which the bees will dispose of a mouse or a slug that may happen to have found […]...
4. Pain The Man that hath great griefs I pity not; ‘Tis something to be great In any wise, and hint the larger state, Though but in shadow of a shade, God wot! Moreover, while we wait the possible, This man has touched the fact, And probed till he has felt the core, where, packed In pulpy […]...
5. The Big Boots Of Pain There can be certain potions Needled in the clock For the body’s fall from grace, To untorture and to plead for. These I have known And would sell all my furniture And books and assorted goods To avoid, and more, more. But the other pain I would sell my life to avoid The pain that […]...
6. Joy to have merited the Pain Joy to have merited the Pain To merit the Release Joy to have perished every step To Compass Paradise Pardon to look upon thy face With these old fashioned Eyes Better than new could be for that Though bought in Paradise Because they looked on thee before And thou hast looked on them Prove Me […]...
7. Nettles My son aged three fell in the nettle bed. ‘Bed’ seemed a curious name for those green spears, That regiment of spite behind the shed: It was no place for rest. With sobs and tears The boy came seeking comfort and I saw White blisters beaded on his tender skin. We soothed him till his […]...
8. I cried at Pity not at Pain I cried at Pity not at Pain I heard a Woman say “Poor Child” and something in her voice Convicted me of me So long I fainted, to myself It seemed the common way, And Health, and Laughter, Curious things To look at, like a Toy To sometimes hear “Rich people” buy And see the […]...
9. Psalm 77 part 1 Melancholy assaulting, and hope prevailing. To God I cried with mournful voice, I sought his gracious ear, In the sad day when troubles rose, And filled the night with fear. Sad were my days, and dark my nights, My soul refused relief; I thought on God the just and wise, But thoughts increased my grief. […]...
10. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay, It chanced a bee did fly that way, After a dew, or dew-like shower, To tipple freely in a flower; For some rich flower, he took the lip Of Julia, and began to sip; But when he felt he suck’d from thence Honey, and in the quintessence, He drank so […]...
11. Happiness In the afternoon I watched The she-bear; she was looking For the secret bin of sweetness – Honey, that the bees store In the trees’ soft caves. Black block of gloom, she climbed down Tree after tree and shuffled on Through the woods. And then She found it! The honey-house deep As heartwood, and dipped […]...
12. A Baby Asleep after Pain As a drenched, drowned bee Hangs numb and heavy from a bending flower, So clings to me My baby, her brown hair brushed with wet tears And laid against her cheek; Her soft white legs hanging heavily over my arm Swinging heavily to my movements as I walk. My sleeping baby hangs upon my life, […]...
13. Pleasure A Short Poem or Else Not Say I True pleasure breathes not city air, Nor in Art’s temples dwells, In palaces and towers where The voice of Grandeur dwells. No! Seek it where high Nature holds Her court ‘mid stately groves, Where she her majesty unfolds, And in fresh beauty moves; Where thousand birds of […]...
14. To The God of Pain UNWILLING priestess in thy cruel fane, Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain, Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows, My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows Anointed with perpetual weariness. Long have I borne thy service, through the stress Of rigorous years, sad days and slumberless nights, Performing thine inexorable […]...
15. The Mower's Song My Mind was once the true survey Of all these Medows fresh and gay; And in the greenness of the Grass Did see its Hopes as in a Glass; When Juliana came, and she What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. But these, while I with Sorrow pine, Grew more […]...
16. Sonnet XXXIX O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is ‘t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, […]...
17. Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing O, how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring? And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee? Even for this let us divided live, And our dear love lose name of single one, That […]...
18. A precious mouldering pleasure 'tis A precious mouldering pleasure ’tis To meet an Antique Book In just the Dress his Century wore A privilege I think His venerable Hand to take And warming in our own A passage back or two to make To Times when he was young His quaint opinions to inspect His thought to ascertain On Themes […]...
19. The Platonic Lady I could love thee till I die, Would’st thou love me modestly, And ne’er press, whilst I live, For more than willingly I would give: Which should sufficient be to prove I’d understand the art of love. I hate the thing is called enjoyment: Besides it is a dull employment, It cuts off all that’s […]...
20. Words I had this thought a while ago, ‘My darling cannot understand What I have done, or what would do In this blind bitter land.’ And I grew weary of the sun Until my thoughts cleared up again, Remembering that the best I have done Was done to make it plain; That every year I have […]...
21. The Old Man's Comforts and how he gained them You are old, Father William, the young man cried, The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man, Now tell me the reason I pray. In the days of my youth, Father William replied, I remember’d that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health […]...
22. The Wish Would but indulgent Fortune send To me a kind, and faithful Friend, One who to Virtue’s Laws is true, And does her nicest Rules pursue; One Pious, Lib’ral, Just and Brave, And to his Passions not a Slave; Who full of Honour, void of Pride, Will freely praise, and freely chide; But not indulge the […]...
23. Sonnet X: Reason Reason, in faith thou art well serv’d, that still Wouldst brabbling be with sense and love in me: I rather wish’d thee climb the Muses’ hill, Or reach the fruit of Nature’s choicest tree, Or seek heav’n’s course, or heav’n’s inside to see: Why shouldst thou toil our thorny soil to till? Leave sense, and […]...
24. Psalm III: My God, How Many Are My Fears My God, how many are my fears! How fast my foes increase! Conspiring my eternal death, They break my present peace. The lying tempter would persuade There’s no relief from heaven; And all my swelling sins appear Too big to be forgiven. But thou, my glory and my strength, Shall on the tempter tread, Shall […]...
25. The Flower Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went Thro’ my garden bower, And muttering discontent Cursed me and my flower. Then it grew so tall It wore a crown of light, But thieves from o’er the wall […]...
26. Psalm 3 Doubts and fears suppressed. My God, how many are my fears! How fast my foes increase! Conspiring my eternal death, They break my present peace. The lying tempter would persuade There’s no relief in heav’n; And all my swelling sins appear Too big to be forgiv’n. But thou, my glory and my strength, Shalt on […]...
27. Ah! Sun-Flower Ah Sun-flower! weary of time. Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the travellers journey is done. Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire. Where my Sun-flower wishes to go....
28. Forget-Me-Not A gallant knight and his betroth’d bride, Were walking one day by a river side, They talk’d of love, and they talk’d of war, And how very foolish lovers are. At length the bride to the knight did say, ‘There have been many young ladies led astray By believing in all their lovers said, And […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. A Dialogue Between the Resolved Soul, And Created Pleasure Courage my Soul, now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal Shield. Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright. Ballance thy Sword against the Fight. See where an Army, strong as fair, With silken Banners spreads the air. Now, if thou bee’st that thing Divine, In this day’s Combat let it shine: And shew […]...
31. The Garden of God WITHIN the iron cities One walked unknown for years, In his heart the pity of pities That grew for human tears. When love and grief were ended The flower of pity grew: By unseen hands ‘t was tended And fed with holy dew. Though in his heart were barred in The blooms of beauty blown, […]...
32. Lines Written In Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through […]...
33. It Nods and Curtseys and Recovers It nods and curtseys and recovers When the wind blows above, The nettle on the graves of lovers That hanged themselves for love. The nettle nods, the wind blows over, The man, he does not move, The lover of the grave, the lover That hanged himself for love....
34. Joy and Pleasure Now, joy is born of parents poor, And pleasure of our richer kind; Though pleasure’s free, she cannot sing As sweet a song as joy confined. Pleasure’s a Moth, that sleeps by day And dances by false glare at night; But Joy’s a Butterfly, that loves To spread its wings in Nature’s light. Joy’s like […]...
35. At Pleasure Bay In the willows along the river at Pleasure Bay A catbird singing, never the same phrase twice. Here under the pines a little off the road In 1927 the Chief of Police And Mrs. W. killed themselves together, Sitting in a roadster. Ancient unshaken pilings And underwater chunks of still-mortared brick In shapes like bits […]...
36. Voices at the Window Who is it that, this dark night, Underneath my window plaineth? It is one who from thy sight Being, ah, exiled, disdaineth Every other vulgar light. Why, alas, and are you he? Be not yet those fancies changeed? Dear, when you find change in me, Though from me you be estranged, Let my change to […]...
37. Portrait of a Baby He lay within a warm, soft world Of motion. Colors bloomed and fled, Maroon and turquoise, saffron, red, Wave upon wave that broke and whirled To vanish in the grey-green gloom, Perspectiveless and shadowy. A bulging world that had no walls, A flowing world, most like the sea, Compassing all infinity Within a shapeless, ebbing […]...
38. The Violent Space (Or When Your Sister Sleeps Around For Money) Exchange in greed the ungraceful signs. Thrust The thick notes between green apple breasts. Then the shadow of the devil descends, The violent space cries and angel eyes, Large and dark, retreat in innocence and in ice. (Run sister run-the Bugga man comes!) The violent space cries silently, Like you cried wide years ago In […]...
39. Futility Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds Woke, once, the clays of a cold […]...
40. Lament for Zenocrate Black is the beauty of the brightest day, The golden belle of heaven’s eternal fire, That danced with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams: And all with faintness and for foul disgrace, He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night: Zenocrate […]...