Fame

Related poetry:

1. Dream Song 133: As he grew famousâ€"ah, but what is fame? As he grew famous—ah, but what is fame? — He lost his old obsession with his name, Things seemed to matter less, Including the fame—a television team came From another country to make a film of him Which did not him distress: He enjoyed the hard work & he was good at that, So they […]...
2. Fame of Myself, to justify Fame of Myself, to justify, All other Plaudit be Superfluous An Incense Beyond Necessity Fame of Myself to lack Although My Name be else Supreme This were an Honor honorless A futile Diadem...
3. The Price of Fame Do I really love you? So let me guess, you’ll think I’m easy prey If I say, okay I do – but it wont get in the way of my impending fame; I will be famous, be assured of that, and please to keep it hidden in Your fancy beggar’s hat. Be it fame or […]...
4. Fame's Penny-Trumpet Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back – Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! Fill all the air with hungry wails – “Reward us, ere we think or write! Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails To sate the swinish appetite!” And, where great […]...
5. Fareweel To A'Our Scottish Fame Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name, Sae famed in martial story! Now Sark rins over Solway sands, And Tweed rins to the ocean, To mark where England’s province stands – Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! What force or guile could not subdue […]...
6. Fame is the one that does not stay Fame is the one that does not stay Its occupant must die Or out of sight of estimate Ascend incessantly Or be that most insolvent thing A Lightning in the Germ Electrical the embryo But we demand the Flame...
7. The Clover's simple Fame The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself And that degrades the Flower The Daisy that has looked behind Has compromised its power...
8. Fame is a fickle food Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set. Whose crumbs the crows inspect And with ironic caw Flap past it to the Farmer’s Corn Men eat of it and die....
9. On Fame Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy To those who woo her with too slavish knees, But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy, And dotes the more upon a heart at ease; She is a Gypsy,-will not speak to those Who have not learnt to be content without her; A Jilt, whose ear […]...
10. When I peruse the Conquer'd Fame WHEN I peruse the conquer’d fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals, I do not envy the generals, Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house; But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them, How through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, long […]...
11. Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell. Nay if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it, for I love you so That I […]...
12. Sonnet LXXI No longer mourn for me when I am dead Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I […]...
13. Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world’s a song; “She’s far,” it sings me, “but fair,” it rings me, “Quiet,” it laughs, “and strong!” Oh! spite of the miles and years between us, Spite of your chosen part, I do remember; and I go With laughter in my heart. So […]...
14. Death & Fame When I die I don’t care what happens to my body Throw ashes in the air, scatter ’em in East River Bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B’nai Israel Cemetery But l want a big funeral St. Patrick’s Cathedral, St. Mark’s Church, the largest synagogue in Manhattan First, there’s family, brother, nephews, spry aged […]...
15. Praise In Summer Obscurely yet most surely called to praise, As sometimes summer calls us all, I said The hills are heavens full of branching ways Where star-nosed moles fly overhead the dead; I said the trees are mines in air, I said See how the sparrow burrows in the sky! And then I wondered why this mad […]...
16. In Memory Of My Mother I do not think of you lying in the wet clay Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see You walking down a lane among the poplars On your way to the station, or happily Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday You meet me and you say: ‘Don’t forget to see about the cattle ‘ […]...
17. Charm, The In darkness the loud sea makes moan; And earth is shaken, and all evils creep About her ways. Oh, now to know you sleep! Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, Out of the slow grim fight, One thought to wing to you, asleep, In some cool room that’s open to the night Lying half-forward, […]...
18. Song My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish’d air, By love are driv’n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave; Such end true lovers have. His face is fair as heav’n When springing buds unfold; O why to him was’t giv’n Whose heart is wintry cold? His breast is […]...
19. City That Does Not Sleep In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody. Nobody is asleep. The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins. The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream, And the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the street corner The unbelievable alligator […]...
20. The Living Lost Matron! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth have passed, And now the mould is heaped above The dearest and the last! Bride! who dost wear the widow’s veil Before the wedding flowers are pale! Ye deem the human heart endures No deeper, bitterer grief than yours. Yet there are pangs […]...
21. Finality When I am dead I will not care How future generations fare, For I will be so unaware. Though fields their slain has carpeted, And seas be salt with tears they shed, Not one I’ll waste, for I’ll be dead. Though atom bombs in ashes lay Their skyey cities of to-day, With carrion lips I […]...
22. Little Queen Do you remember the name I wore – The old pet-name of Little Queen – In the dear, dead days that are no more, The happiest days of our lives, I ween? For we loved with that passionate love of youth That blesses but once with its perfect bliss, – A love that, in spite […]...
23. To His Coy Mistress Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long Loves Day. Thou by the Indian Ganges side. Should’st Rubies find: I by the Tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood: […]...
24. The Voice of Toil I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying, All days shall be as all have been; To-day and to-morrow bring fear and sorrow, The never-ending toil between. When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger, In hope we strove, and our hands were strong; Then great men led us, with words they fed us, And […]...
25. On Living I Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel, for example I mean without looking for something beyond and above living, I mean living must be your whole occupation. Living is no laughing matter: you must take it seriously, so much so and to such a degree that, for […]...
26. Our Eunuch Dreams I Our eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light, Of light and love the tempers of the heart, Whack their boys’ limbs, And, winding-footed in their shawl and sheet, Groom the dark brides, the widows of the night Fold in their arms. The shades of girls, all flavoured from their shrouds, When sunlight goes are […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. Love & Fame & Death it sits outside my window now Like and old woman going to market; It sits and watches me, It sweats nevously Through wire and fog and dog-bark Until suddenly I slam the screen with a newspaper Like slapping at a fly And you could hear the scream Over this plain city, And then it left. […]...
29. Rain Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: […]...
30. Sonnet (I) My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole showls of Martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth Poetry Wear Venus livery? only serve her turn? Why are not Sonnets made of thee? and layes Upon thine Altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As […]...
31. Worms Worms finer for fishing you couldn’t be wishing; I delved them dismayed from the velvety sod; The rich loam upturning I gathered them squirming, Big, fat, gleamy earthworms, all ripe for my rod. Thinks I, without waiting, my hook I’ll be baiting, And flip me a fish from the foam of the pool; Then Mother […]...
32. A Grey Mood As we hurry away to the end, my friend, Of this sad little farce called existence, We are sure that the future will bring one thing, And that is the grave in the distance. And so when our lives run along all wrong, And nothing seems real or certain, We can comfort ourselves with the […]...
33. Morning Worship I wake and hearing it raining. Were I dead, what would I give Lazily to lie here, Like this, and live? Or better yet: birdsong, Brightening and spreading How far would I come then To be at the world’s wedding? Now that I lie, though, Listening, living, (Oh, but not forever, Oh, end arriving) How […]...
34. The Line-Gang Here come the line-gang pioneering by, They throw a forest down less cut than broken. They plant dead trees for living, and the dead They string together with a living thread. They string an instrument against the sky Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken Will run as hushed as when they were a thought […]...
35. Composed Upon Westminster Bridge Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky, […]...
36. The Three Bushes An incident from the ‘Historia mei Temporis’ Of the Abbe Michel de Bourdeille Said lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of love? I should be blamed, young man. O my dear, O my dear. […]...
37. The Fool Rings His Bells Come, Death, I’d have a word with thee; And thou, poor Innocency; And Love a lad with broken wing; Apnd Pity, too; The Fool shall sing to you, As Fools will sing. Ay, music hath small sense, And a tune’s soon told, And Earth is old, And my poor wits are dense; Yet have I […]...
38. Psalm 149 Praise God, all his saints or, The saints judging the world. All ye that love the Lord, rejoice, And let your songs be new; Amidst the church with cheerful voice His later wonders show. The Jews, the people of his grace, Shall their Redeemer sing; And Gentile nations join the praise, While Zion owns her […]...
39. A Day in Bed I wish I had not got a cold, The wind is big and wild, I wish that I was very old, Not just a little child. Somehow the day is very long Just keeping here, alone; I do not like the big wind’s song, He’s growling for a bone He’s like an awful dog we […]...
40. Dream Song 85: Op. posth. no. 8 Flak. An eventful thought came to me, Who squirm in my hole. How will the matter end? Who’s king these nights? What happened to. . . day? Are ships abroad? I would like to but may not entertain a friend. Save me from ghastly frights, Triune! My wood or word seems to be rotting. I […]...