The Landing Of The Pilgrim Fathers

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1. The Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point I. I stand on the mark beside the shore Of the first white pilgrim’s bended knee, Where exile turned to ancestor, And God was thanked for liberty. I have run through the night, my skin is as dark, I bend my knee down on this mark. . . I look on the sky and the […]...
2. My Fathers, The Baltic Along the strand stones, Busted shells, wood scraps, Bottle tops, dimpled And stainless beer cans. Something began here A century ago, A nameless disaster, Perhaps a voyage To the lost continent Where I was born. Now the cold winds Of March dimple The gray, incoming Waves. I kneel On the wet earth Looking for a […]...
3. The Pilgrim Youth’s gay springtime scarcely knowing Went I forth the world to roam And the dance of youth, the glowing, Left I in my father’s home, Of my birthright, glad-believing, Of my world-gear took I none, Careless as an infant, cleaving To my pilgrim staff alone. For I placed my mighty hope in Dim and holy […]...
4. Florentine Pilgrim “I’ll do the old dump in a day,” He told me in his brittle way. “Two more, I guess, I’ll give to Rome Before I hit the trail for home; But while I’m there I kindo’ hope To have an audience with the Pope.” We stood upon the terraced height With sunny Florence in our […]...
5. For an Earth-Landing the sky sinks its blue teeth Into the mountains. Rising on pure will (the lurch & lift-off, The sudden swing Into wide, white snow), I encourage the cable. Past the wind & crossed tips of my skis & the mauve shadows of pines & the spoor of bears & deer, I speak to my fear, […]...
6. 372. Song-Kellyburn Braes THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn Braes, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; And he had a wife was the plague of his days, And the thyme it is wither’d, and rue is in prime. Ae day as the carl gaed up the lang glen, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; […]...
7. Prologue All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather&xclm. […]...
8. Sonnet On Approaching Italy I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned, Italia, my Italia, at thy name: And when from out the mountain’s heart I came And saw the land for which my life had yearned, I laughed as one who some great prize had earned: And musing on the marvel of thy fame I watched the […]...
9. Land, Ho! I know ’tis but a loom of land, Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice, I know I cannot hear His voice Upon the shore, nor see Him stand; Yet is it land, ho! land. The land! the land! the lovely land! ‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off-ah, blessиd home! Farewell! farewell! thou […]...
10. Landing Under Water, I See Roots All the things we hide in water Hoping we won’t see them go- (forests growing under water Press against the ones we know)- And they might have gone on growing And they might now breathe above Everything I speak of sowing (everything I try to love)....
11. Bixby's Landing They burned lime on the hill and dropped it down here in an iron car On a long cable; here the ships warped in And took their loads from the engine, the water is deep to the cliff. The car Hangs half way over in the gape of the gorge, Stationed like a north star […]...
12. The Pilgrim I fasted for some forty days on bread and buttermilk, For passing round the bottle with girls in rags or silk, In country shawl or Paris cloak, had put my wits astray, And what’s the good of women, for all that they can say Is fol de rol de rolly O. Round Lough Derg’s holy […]...
13. An American in Europe ‘Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up and down Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of the kings, But now I think I’ve had enough of antiquated things. So it’s home again, and home again, America for me! My heart is turning […]...
14. The Fathers Our fathers all were poor, Poorer our fathers’ fathers; Beyond, we dare not look. We, the sons, keep store Of tarnished gold that gathers Around us from the night, Record it in this book That, when the line is drawn, Credit and creditor gone, Column and figure flown, Will open into light. Archaic fevers shake […]...
15. Our Fathers Also “Below the Mill Dam” Traffics and Discoveries Thrones, Powers, Dominions, Peoples, Kings, Are changing ‘neath our hand. Our fathers also see these things But they do not understand. By they are by with mirth and tears, Wit or the works of Desire- Cushioned about on the kindly years Between the wall and the fire. The […]...
16. America for Me ‘Tis fine to see the Old World and travel up and down Among the famous palaces and cities of renown, To admire the crumblyh castles and the statues and kings But now I think I’ve had enough of antiquated things. So it’s home again, and home again, America for me! My heart is turning home […]...
17. The Fathers Snug at the club two fathers sat, Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. One of them said: ‘My eldest lad Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. But Arthur’s getting all the fun At Arras with his nine-inch gun.’ ‘Yes,’ wheezed the other, ‘that’s the luck! My boy’s quite broken-hearted, stuck In England training all this year. […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. Ami Green Not “a youth with hoary head and haggard eye,” But an old man with a smooth skin And black hair! I had the face of a boy as long as I lived, And for years a soul that was stiff and bent, In a world which saw me just as a jest, To be hailed […]...
20. Dancer THE LADY in red, she in the chile con carne red, Brilliant as the shine of a pepper crimson in the summer sun, She behind a false-face, the much sought-after dancer, the most sought-after dancer of all in this masquerade, The lady in red sox and red hat, ankles of willow, crimson arrow amidst the […]...
21. A Japanese Wood-Carving High up above the open, welcoming door It hangs, a piece of wood with colours dim. Once, long ago, it was a waving tree And knew the sun and shadow through the leaves Of forest trees, in a thick eastern wood. The winter snows had bent its branches down, The spring had swelled its buds […]...
22. The Sands of Dee 1 “O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 2 And call the cattle home, 3 And call the cattle home 4 Across the sands of Dee”; 5 The western wind was wild and dank with foam, 6 And all alone went she. 7 The western tide crept up along the sand, 8 And o’er […]...
23. Lovers on Aran The timeless waves, bright, sifting, broken glass, Came dazzling around, into the rocks, Came glinting, sifting from the Americas To posess Aran. Or did Aran rush To throw wide arms of rock around a tide That yielded with an ebb, with a soft crash? Did sea define the land or land the sea? Each drew […]...
24. Siren Song I phone from time to time, to see if she’s Changed the music on her answerphone. ‘Tell me in two words’, goes the recording, ‘what you were going to tell in a thousand’. I peer into that thought, like peering out To sea at night, hearing the sound of waves Breaking on rocks, knowing she […]...
25. All In The Golden Afternoon All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretense Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour, Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! […]...
26. Wordsworth Wordsworth, thy music like a river rolls Among the mountains, and thy song is fed By living springs far up the watershed; No whirling flood nor parching drought controls The crystal current: even on the shoals It murmurs clear and sweet; and when its bed Darkens below mysterious cliffs of dread, Thy voice of peace […]...
27. When I Came Last to Ludlow When I came last to Ludlow Amidst the moonlight pale, Two friends kept step beside me, Two honest friends and hale. Now Dick lies long in the churchyard, And Ned lies long in jail, And I come home to Ludlow Amidst the moonlight pale....
28. The Pigeons Of St. Marks Something’s wrong in Pigeon-land; ‘Tisn’t as it used to be, When the pilgrim, corn in hand, Courted us with laughing glee; When we crooned with pinions furled, Tamest pigeons in the world. When we packed each arm and shoulder, Never deeming man a menace; Surly birds were never bolder Than our dainty doves of Venice: […]...
29. Defence of Fort M’Henry Tune ANACREON IN HEAVEN O! say can you see, by the dawn’s early light, What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming, Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O’er the ramparts we watch’d, were so gallantly streaming? And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof […]...
30. Safe-home don’t be so lazy maisie maisie Don’t be so lazy please I know it’s snowing And a hard wind’s blowing But nobody knows At the rate we’re going What time we’ll get home tonight Keep to the path for me timothy timothy Keep to the path for me please My legs are aching And my […]...
31. All Woods Must Fail O! Wanderers in the shadowed land Despair not! For though dark they stand, All woods there be must end at last, And see the open sun go past: The setting sun, the rising sun, The day’s end, or the day begun. For east or west all woods must fail....
32. For every Bird a Nest For every Bird a Nest Wherefore in timid quest Some little Wren goes seeking round Wherefore when boughs are free Households in every tree Pilgrim be found? Perhaps a home too high Ah Aristocracy! The little Wren desires Perhaps of twig so fine Of twine e’en superfine, Her pride aspires The Lark is not ashamed […]...
33. Reluctance Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keeping […]...
34. "And the sins of the fathers shall be&quot “And the sins of the fathers shall be Visited upon the heads of the children, Even unto the third and fourth Generation of them that hate me.” Well, then I hate thee, unrighteous picture; Wicked image, I hate thee; So, strike with thy vengeance The heads of those little men Who come blindly. It will […]...
35. 186. Lines on the Fall of Fyers AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, his stream resounds. As high in air the bursting torrents flow, As deep recoiling surges foam below, Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends, And viewles Echo’s […]...
36. Say not the Struggle Naught availeth SAY not the struggle naught availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke conceal’d, Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. […]...
37. Gettysburg O Pride of the days in prime of the months Now trebled in great renown, When before the ark of our holy cause Fell Dagon down- Dagon foredoomed, who, armed and targed, Never his impious heart enlarged Beyond that hour; God walled his power, And there the last invader charged. He charged, and in that […]...
38. The Spell Of The Yukon I wanted the gold, and I sought it, I scrabbled and mucked like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave. I wanted the gold, and I got it Came out with a fortune last fall, Yet somehow life’s not what I thought it, And somehow […]...
39. Sonnet XII ONe day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies, To make a truce and termes to entertaine: All fearlesse then of so false enimies, Which sought me to entrap in treasons traine. So as I then disarmed did remaine, A wicked ambush which lay hidden long In the close couert of her guilefull eyen, Thence breaking […]...
40. The Revenge of Rain-in-the-Face In that desolate land and lone, Where the Big Horn and Yellowstone Roar down their mountain path, By their fires the Sioux Chiefs Muttered their woes and griefs And the menace of their wrath. “Revenge!” cried Rain-in-the-Face, “Revenue upon all the race Of the White Chief with yellow hair!” And the mountains dark and high […]...