A Lovers' Quarrel

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1. A Lovers' Quarrel I. Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last night’s rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love’s away! I’d as lief that the blue were grey, II. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell, With a foaming head […]...
2. In Memoriam 16: I envy not in any moods I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes His license in the field of time, Unfetter’d by the sense of crime, To whom a conscience never wakes; Nor, what may count itself […]...
3. To Lovers Ho, ye lovers, list to me; Warning words have I for thee: Give ye heed, hefore ye wed, To this thing Sir Chaucer said: “Love wol not be constrained by maistrie, When maistrie cometh, the god of love anon Beteth his winges, and farewel, he is gon.” Other poets knew as well, And the same […]...
4. The Cautious Lovers Silvia, let’s from the Crowd retire; For, What to you and me (Who but each other do desire) Is all that here we see? Apart we’ll live, tho’ not alone; For, who alone can call Those, who in Desarts live with One, If in that One they’ve All? The World a vast Meander is, Where […]...
5. Troth with the Dead The moon is broken in twain, and half a moon Before me lies on the still, pale floor of the sky; The other half of the broken coin of troth Is buried away in the dark, where the still dead lie. They buried her half in the grave when they laid her away; I had […]...
6. Two Months June No hope, no change! The clouds have shut us in, And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down Full on the bosom of the tortured Town, Till Night falls heavy as remembered sin That will not suffer sleep or thought of ease, And, hour on hour, the dry-eyed Moon in spite Glares through […]...
7. The Lovers of the Poor arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies’ Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars across the boulevard brag Of proud, seamed faces with mercy and murder hinting Here, there, interrupting, all deep and debonair, The pink paint on the innocence of fear; Walk in a gingerly manner up the […]...
8. Alone The abode of the nightingale is bare, Flowered frost congeals in the gelid air, The fox howls from his frozen lair: Alas, my loved one is gone, I am alone: It is winter. Once the pink cast a winy smell, The wild bee hung in the hyacinth bell, Light in effulgence of beauty fell: I […]...
9. NO FAULT IN WOMEN No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would chuse. No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dress; No fault in women, to lay on The tincture of vermilion; And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny. No fault in women, […]...
10. Platonic I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldn’t you be my friend? Couldn’t we sit in the twilight, Couldn’t we walk on the shore With only a pleasant friendship To bind us, and nothing more? There was not […]...
11. A Calendar of Sonnets: October The month of carnival of all the year, When Nature lets the wild earth go its way, And spend whole seasons on a single day. The spring-time holds her white and purple dear; October, lavish, flaunts them far and near; The summer charily her reds doth lay Like jewels on her costliest array; October, scornful, […]...
12. Krinken Krinken was a little child, It was summer when he smiled. Oft the hoary sea and grim Stretched its white arms out to him, Calling, “Sun-child, come to me; Let me warm my heart with thee!” But the child heard not the sea, Calling, yearning evermore For the summer on the shore. Krinken on the […]...
13. The Rapture of the Year While skies glint bright with bluest light Through clouds that race o’er fields and town, And leaves go dancing left and right, And orchard apples tumble down; While school-girls sweet, in lane or street, Lean ‘gainst the wind and feel and hear Its glad heart like a lover’s beat, So reigns the rapture of the […]...
14. The Way That Lovers Use The Way that lovers use is this; They bow, catch hands, with never a word, And their lips meet, and they do kiss, ВЂ”So I have heard. They queerly find some healing so, And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, ВЂ”I have read as much. And theirs no longer joy […]...
15. Invern Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth in me I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours And joying in a momentary sun, Lo I am withered with waiting till my spring cometh! Or crouch covetous of warmth O’er scant-logged ingle blaze, […]...
16. An Answer If all the year was summer-time, And all the aim of life Was just to lilt on like a rhyme – Then I would be your wife. If all the days were August days, And crowned with golden weather, How happy then through green-clad ways We two could stray together! If all the nights were […]...
17. Gone Everybody loved Chick Lorimer in our town. Far off Everybody loved her. So we all love a wild girl keeping a hold On a dream she wants. Nobody knows now where Chick Lorimer went. Nobody knows why she packed her trunk. . a few old things And is gone, Gone with her little chin Thrust […]...
18. Two Lovers Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes sing. O budding time! O love’s blest prime! Two wedded from the portal stept: The bells made happy carolings, The air was soft as fanning wings, White petals on the pathway slept. […]...
19. Sonnet XCVII How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December’s bareness every where! And yet this time removed was summer’s time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow’d […]...
20. Sonnet 97: How like a winter hath my absence been How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December’s bareness everywhere! And yet this time removed was summer’s time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widowed wombs […]...
21. Quarrel Let us quarrel for these reasons: You detest the salt which seasons My speech. . . and all my lights go out In the cold poison of your doubt. I love Shelley. . . you love Keats Something parts and something meets. I love salads. . . you love chops; Something goes and something stops. […]...
22. The Quarrel The word I spoke in anger Weighs less than a parsley seed, But a road runs through it That leads to my grave, That bought-and-paid-for lot On a salt-sprayed hill in Truro Where the scrub pines Overlook the bay. Half-way I’m dead enough, Strayed from my own nature And my fierce hold on life. If […]...
23. A Quarrel After that failed intercourse she asked if something had been wrong. She coiled in muteness and ventured an old book from the shelf in my mind. I dived into her seabed where corals petrified among untrampled seaweeds. When I emerged gasping, our bedroom had grown black; she had fallen asleep; her tears, another ocean....
24. The Quarrel Our quarrel seemed a giant thing, It made the room feel mean and small, The books, the lamp, the furniture, The very pictures on the wall Crowded upon us as we sat Pale and terrified, face to face. “Why do you stay?” she said, “my room Can never be your resting place.” “Katinka, ere we […]...
25. Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding Love is enough: it grew up without heeding In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure, And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding, As the morning and evening passed over its treasure. And what do ye say […]...
26. Year that Trembled YEAR that trembled and reel’d beneath me! Your summer wind was warm enough-yet the air I breathed froze me; A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken’d me; Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself; Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled? And sullen hymns of […]...
27. A trusting little leaf of green A little leaf just in the forest’s edge, All summer long, had listened to the wooing Of amorous brids that flew across the hedge, Singing their blithe sweet songs for her undoing. So many were the flattering things they told her, The parent tree seemed quite too small to hold her. At last one lonesome […]...
28. Lotus On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, And I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my Dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. […]...
29. THE DOUBTERS AND THE LOVERS THE DOUBTERS. YE love, and sonnets write! Fate’s strange behest! The heart, its hidden meaning to declare, Must seek for rhymes, uniting pair with pair: Learn, children, that the will is weak, at best. Scarcely with freedom the o’erflowing breast As yet can speak, and well may it beware; Tempestuous passions sweep each chord that’s […]...
30. FINNISH SONG IF the loved one, the well-known one, Should return as he departed, On his lips would ring my kisses, Though the wolf’s blood might have dyed them; And a hearty grasp I’d give him, Though his finger-ends were serpents. Wind! Oh, if thou hadst but reason, Word for word in turns thou’dst carry, E’en though […]...
31. 517. Song-O wat ye wha's in yon town Chorus-O wat ye wha’s in yon town, Ye see the e’enin sun upon, The dearest maid’s in yon town, That e’ening sun is shining on. NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, She wanders by yon spreading tree; How blest ye flowers that round her blaw, Ye catch the glances o’ her e’e! O wat […]...
32. In Lovers' Lane I know a place for loitering feet Deep in the valley where the breeze Makes melody in lichened boughs, And murmurs low love-litanies. There slender harebells nod and dream, And pale wild roses offer up The fragrance of their golden hearts, As from some incense-brimméd cup. It holds the sunshine sifted down Softly through many […]...
33. The Daughter Of The Year Nature, when she made thee, dear, Begged the treasures of the year. For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her skies; Autumn spun her gold and red In a mass of silken thread- Gold and red and sunlight rare For the […]...
34. At Castle Wood The day is done, the winter sun Is setting in its sullen sky; And drear the course that has been run, And dim the hearts that slowly die. No star will light my coming night; No morn of hope for me will shine; I mourn not heaven would blast my sight, And I ne’er longed […]...
35. The Dark House Dusk in the rain-soaked garden, And dark the house within. A door creaked: someone was early To watch the dawn begin. But he stole away like a thief In the chilly, star-bright air: Though the house was shuttered for slumber, He had left one wakeful there. Nothing moved in the garden. Never a bird would […]...
36. 425. Song-Had I a cave HAD I a cave on some wild distant shore, Where the winds howl to the wave’s dashing roar: There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close, Ne’er to wake more! Falsest of womankind, can’st thou declare All thy fond, plighted vows fleeting as air! To thy […]...
37. Robin Redbreast Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! For Summer’s nearly done; The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our Thrushes now are silent, Our Swallows flown away, But Robin’s here, in coat of brown, With ruddy breast-knot gay. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! Robin singing sweetly In the falling of the year. Bright yellow, red, […]...
38. Now At Liberty Little white love, your way you’ve taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart’s forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there’s no returning; Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.) Little white […]...
39. 108. SongвЂ"Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary? WILL ye go to the Indies, my Mary, And leave auld Scotia’s shore? Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, Across th’ Atlantic roar? O sweet grows the lime and the orange, And the apple on the pine; But a’ the charms o’ the Indies Can never equal thine. I hae sworn by the […]...
40. Ballade at Thirty-five This, no song of an ingénue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience, This, a chantey of sophistry, This, the sum of experiments, I loved them until they loved me. Decked in garments of sable hue, Daubed with ashes of […]...