Going Away

Related poetry:

1. 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 […]...
2. No matter now Sweet No matter now Sweet But when I’m Earl Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word just Trivial a Smile But won’t you wish you’d spared one When I’m Earl? I shan’t need it then Crests will do Eagles on my Buckles On my Belt too Ermine my familiar Gown Say […]...
3. Good-bye The last of last words spoken is, Good-bye – The last dismantled flower in the weed-grown hedge, The last thin rumour of a feeble bell far ringing, The last blind rat to spurn the mildewed rye. A hardening darkness glasses the haunted eye, Shines into nothing the watcher’s burnt-out candle, Wreathes into scentless nothing the […]...
4. When I was a Bird I climbed up the karaka tree Into a nest all made of leaves But soft as feathers. I made up a song that went on singing all by itself And hadn’t any words, but got sad at the end. There were daisies in the grass under the tree. I said just to try them: “I’ll […]...
5. It Is Not A Word It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart That has too much to keep, Only memories waking That sleep so light a sleep....
6. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 5. Sometimes I Hold it half a Sin I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain, A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap […]...
7. Anna Dalassené In the golden bull that Alexios Comnenos issued To prominently honor his mother, The very sagacious Lady Anna Dalassené- Distinguished in her works, in her ways- There are many words of praise: Here let us convey of them A beautiful, noble phrase “Those cold words ‘mine’ or ‘yours’ were never spoken.”...
8. Inner Man It isn’t the body That’s a stranger. It’s someone else. We poke the same Ugly mug At the world. When I scratch He scratches too. There are women Who claim to have held him. A dog Follows me about. It might be his. If I’m quiet, he’s quieter. So I forget him. Yet, as I […]...
9. Heart of God O great heart of God, Once vague and lost to me, Why do I throb with your throb to-night, In this land, eternity? O little heart of God, Sweet intruding stranger, You are laughing in my human breast, A Christ-child in a manger. Heart, dear heart of God, Beside you now I kneel, Strong heart […]...
10. The good soldier on someone else’s place It seems to him the land Slings distance way out The dirt is dead and The sky seems twisted The beat of the stones is wrong He doesn’t know how to say it There are no words no opportunity And anyway What would you say That you’re a stranger And this […]...
11. For The Twentieth Century Bound, hungry to pluck again from the thousand Technologies of ecstasy Boundlessness, the world that at a drop of water Rises without boundaries, I push the PLAY button:- …Callas, Laurel & Hardy, Szigeti You are alive again,- The slow movement of K.218 Once again no longer Bland, merely pretty, nearly Banal, as it is In […]...
12. Rice Pudding What is the matter with Mary Jane? She’s crying with all her might and main, And she won’t eat her dinner – rice pudding again – What is the matter with Mary Jane? What is the matter with Mary Jane? I’ve promised her dolls and a daisy-chain, And a book about animals – all in […]...
13. Desolation I think that the bitterest sorrow or pain Of love unrequited, or cold death’s woe, Is sweet, compared to that hour when we know That some grand passion is on the wane. When we see that the glory, and glow, and grace Which lent a splendour to night and day, Are surely fading, and showing […]...
14. Coal I Is the total black, being spoken From the earth’s inside. There are many kinds of open How a diamond comes into a knot of flame How sound comes into a words, coloured By who pays what for speaking. Some words are open like a diamond On glass windows Singing out within the crash of […]...
15. Sonnet 44: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, Injurious distance should not stop my way; For then despite of space I would be brought, From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. No matter then although my foot did stand Upon the farthest earth removed from thee; For nimble thought can jump both sea […]...
16. March 26, 1974 R. Frost 100th B’day The air was soft, the ground still cold. In wet dull pastures where I strolled Was something I could not believe. Dead grass appeared to slide and heave, Though still too frozen-flat to stir, And rocks to twitch, and all to blur. What was this rippling of the land? Was matter […]...
17. The Universal Language Of Love There is a universal language that is spoken by all – Both on earth and in the heavens above. It’s a beautiful language that flows from the heart And it’s universal name is love. The language of love uses thoughts and feelings To express what it wants to say, It’s the language that God uses […]...
18. Contentment If any line that I ever penned, Or any word I have spoken, Has comforted heart of foe or friend – In any way, why my life, I’ll say, Has reaped the reward of labour, If aught I have said, or written, has made Gladder the heart o’ my neighbour. If any deed that I […]...
19. Bridal Ballad The ring is on my hand, And the wreath is on my brow; Satin and jewels grand Are all at my command, And I am happy now. And my lord he loves me well; But, when first he breathed his vow, I felt my bosom swell – For the words rang as a knell, And […]...
20. Soldier Boy My soldier boy has crossed the sea To fight the foeman; But he’ll come back to make of me And honest woman. So I am singing all day long, Despite blood-shedding; For though I know he’s done me wrong, We’ll end by wedding. My soldier boy is home again, So bold and scathless; But oh, […]...
21. Said The Poet To The Analyst My business is words. Words are like labels, Or coins, or better, like swarming bees. I confess I am only broken by the sources of things; As if words were counted like dead bees in the attic, Unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings. I must always forget who one words is able […]...
22. Spring Wind in London I Blow across the stagnant world, I blow across the sea, For me, the sailor’s flag unfurled, For me, the uprooted tree. My challenge to the world is hurled; The world must bow to me. I drive the clouds across the sky, I huddle them like sheep; Merciless shepherd-dog am I And shepherd-watch I keep. […]...
23. Love After Love The time will come When, with elation You will greet yourself arriving At your own door, in your own mirror And each will smile at the other’s welcome, And say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart To itself, to the […]...
24. Jack Dunn of Nevertire It chanced upon the very day we’d got the shearing done, A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o’-Sunday Run; He had a round and jolly face, and he was sleek and stout, He drove right up between the huts and called the super out. We chaps were smoking after tea, and heard the swell […]...
25. The Rose Tree ‘O words are lightly spoken,’ Said Pearse to Connolly, ‘Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows Across the bitter sea.’ ‘It needs to be but watered,’ James Connolly replied, ‘To make the green come out again And spread on every side, And shake the […]...
26. Hymn to Love We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee, As théou, Léove, were the déep thought And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we, Thy fires of thought out-spoken: But burn’d not through us thy imagining Like fiérce méood in a séong céaught, We were as clamour’d words a […]...
27. Modern Declaration I, having loved ever since I was a child a few things, never having Wavered In these affections; never through shyness in the houses of the Rich or in the presence of clergymen having denied these Loves; Never when worked upon by cynics like chiropractors having Grunted or clicked a vertebra to the discredit of […]...
28. The Stranger The Stranger within my gate, He may be true or kind, But he does not talk my talk I cannot feel his mind. I see the face and the eyes and the mouth, But not the soul behind. The men of my own stock, They may do ill or well, But they tell the lies […]...
29. Love The Wild Swan “I hate my verses, every line, every word. Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try One grass-blade’s curve, or the throat of one bird That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky. Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch One color, one glinting Flash, of the splendor of things. Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets […]...
30. Words Be careful of words, Even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, Sometimes they swarm like insects And leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock You stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and […]...
31. Oh give it Motion deck it sweet Oh give it Motion deck it sweet With Artery and Vein Upon its fastened Lips lay words Affiance it again To that Pink stranger we call Dust Acquainted more with that Than with this horizontal one That will not lift its Hat...
32. The Black Birds I Once, only once, I saw it clear, That Eden every human heart has dreamed A hundred times, but always far away! Ah, well do I remember how it seemed, Through the still atmosphere Of that enchanted day, To lie wide open to my weary feet: A little land of love and joy and rest, […]...
33. Against the ladling of doom crisis has a fact to get straight It needn’t be the end of the world Beginnings too are coated with death Because we’ve had enough of the old’s Dirty jokes doesn’t mean there’s no More grass ready to push itself up Or dreams can’t go on being lived The dreamers’ necks having been twisted (visions […]...
34. And love has changed to kindliness When love has changed to kindliness Oh, love, our hungry lips, that press So tight that Time’s an old god’s dream Nodding in heaven, and whisper stuff Seven million years were not enough To think on after, make it seem Less than the breath of children playing, A blasphemy scarce worth the saying, A sorry […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. Love and a Question A stranger came to the door at eve, And he spoke the bridegroom fair. He bore a green-white stick in his hand, And, for all burden, care. He asked with the eyes more than the lips For a shelter for the night, And he turned and looked at the road afar Without a window light. […]...
37. You Remember Ellen You remember Ellen, our hamlet’s pride, How meekly she bless’d her humble lot, When the stranger, William, had made her his bride, And love was the light of their lowly cot. Together they toil’d through winds and rains, Till William, at length, in sadness said, “We must seek our fortune on other plains;” Then, sighing, […]...
38. I AM NOT A NATIVE OF THIS PLACE I am not a native of this palce.(Yosimasu G.) Nor yet a stranger. With the rst of you I hunt for shade My boots half off To let the air through. My head is on my shoulders & is real. I plant cucumbers Twice a year & count the bounty. Often I read The papers […]...
39. Epitaph in a Church-Yard in Charleston, South Carolina GEORGE AUGUSTUS CLOUGH A NATIVE OF LIVERPOOL, DIED SUDDENLY OF “STRANGER’S FEVER” NOV’R 5th 1843 AGED 22 He died of “Stranger’s Fever” when his youth Had scarcely melted into manhood, so The chiselled legend runs; a brother’s woe Laid bare for epitaph. The savage ruth Of a sunny, bright, but alien land, uncouth With cruel […]...
40. A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You […]...