Guerdon

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet III: Taking My Pen Taking my pen, with words to cast my woe, Duly to count the sum of all my cares, I find my griefs innumerable grow, The reckonings rise to millions of despairs; And thus dividing of my fatal hours, The payments of my love I read and cross, Subtracting, set my sweets unto my sours, My […]...
2. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling that once was dear? Then, child of misfortune, come hither, I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear. Has love to that […]...
3. Does It Pay? If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road, Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load, Then life, indeed, does pay. If we can show the troubled heart the gain That lies always in loss, Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain Of bearing life’s hard […]...
4. Benjamin Fraser Their spirits beat upon mine Like the wings of a thousand butterflies. I closed my eyes and felt their spirits vibrating. I closed my eyes, yet I knew when their lashes Fringed their cheeks from downcast eyes, And when they turned their heads; And when their garments clung to them, Or fell from them, in […]...
5. I Love You I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my […]...
6. Completion When I shall meet God’s generous dispensers Of all the riches in the heavenly store, Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers For loneliness and loss upon this shore, Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating, My soul its wish and longing will declare, Lest they reply: ‘Here are no bounties waiting: We gave on earth, your […]...
7. Conversion When this world’s pleasures for my soul sufficed, Ere my heart’s plummet sounded depths of pain, I call on Reason to control my brain, And scoffed at that old story of Christ. But when o’er burning wastes my feet had trod, And all my life was desolate with loss, With bleeding hands I clung about […]...
8. The Locket From out her shabby rain-coat pocket The little Jew girl in the train Produced a dinted silver locket With pasted in it portraits twain. “These are my parents, sir” she said; “Or were, for now I fear they’re dead. “I know to Belsen they were sent; I never heard of them again. So many were […]...
9. Hymn 109 The value of Christ, and his righteousness. Phil. 3:7-9. No more, my God, I boast no more Of all the duties I have done; I quit the hopes I held before, To trust the merits of thy Son. Now, for the love I bear his name, What was my gain I count my loss; My […]...
10. Night Words after Juan Ramon A child wakens in a cold apartment. The windows are frosted. Outside he hears Words rising from the streets, words he cannot Understand, and then the semis gear down For the traffic light on Houston. He sleeps Again and dreams of another city On a high hill above a wide river Bathed […]...
11. Two Graves First Ghost To sepulcher my mouldy bones I bough a pile of noble stones, And half a year a sculptor spent To hew my marble monument, The stateliest to rear its head In all this city of the dead. And generations passing through Will gape, and ask: What did he do To earn this tomb […]...
12. Divine Epigrams: To our Lord, upon the Water Made Wine Thou water turn’st to wine, fair friend of life, Thy foe, to cross the sweet arts of thy reign, Distills from thence the tears of wrath and strife, And so turns wine to water back again....
13. A Vindication If heaven loved not the wine, A Wine Star would not be in heaven; If earth loved not the wine, The Wine Spring would not be on the earth. Since heaven and earth love the wine, Need a tippling mortal be ashamed? The transparent wine, I hear, Has the soothing virtue of a sage, While […]...
14. Mother's Loss If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe, My babe with dreamful eyes; Thy bed is cold; and night wind bold Shrieks woeful lullabies. My breast is softer than the sod; This room, with […]...
15. Song of Karen, the Dancing Child (O little white feet of mine) Out in the storm and the rain you fly; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Can the children hear my cry? (O little white feet of mine) Never a child in the whole great town; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Lights out and the blinds pulled […]...
16. It Was an English Ladye Bright It was an English ladye bright, (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all. Blithely they saw the rising sun When he shone fair on Carlisle wall; But they were sad ere day was done, Though Love was still the lord […]...
17. Edmund Pollard I would I had thrust my hands of flesh Into the disk-flowers bee-infested, Into the mirror-like core of fire Of the light of life, the sun of delight. For what are anthers worth or petals Or halo-rays? Mockeries, shadows Of the heart of the flower, the central flame! All is yours, young passer-by; Enter the […]...
18. The Tear When Friendship or Love Our sympathies move; When Truth, in a glance, should appear, The lips may beguile, With a dimple or smile, But the test of affection’s a Tear: Too oft is a smile But the hypocrite’s wile, To mask detestation, or fear; Give me the soft sigh, Whilst the soultelling eye Is dimm’d, […]...
19. Pilgrims For oh, when the war will be over We’ll go and we’ll look for our dead; We’ll go when the bee’s on the clover, And the plume of the poppy is red: We’ll go when the year’s at its gayest, When meadows are laughing with flow’rs; And there where the crosses are greyest, We’ll seek […]...
20. Denied The winds came out of the west one day, And hurried the clouds before them; And drove the shadows and mists away, And over the mountains bore them. And I wept, ‘Oh, wind, blow into my mind, Blow into my soul and heart, And scatter the clouds that hang lile shrouds, And make the shadows […]...
21. Bacchus Bring me wine, but wine which never grew In the belly of the grape, Or grew on vine whose tap-roots, reaching through Under the Andes to the Cape, Suffer no savor of the earth to scape. Let its grapes the morn salute From a nocturnal root, Which feels the acrid juice Of Styx and Erebus; […]...
22. Longevity Said Brown: ‘I can’t afford to die For I have bought annuity, And every day of living I Have money coming in to me: While others toil to make their bread I make mine by not being dead.’ Said Jones: ‘I can’t afford to die, For I have books and books to write. I do […]...
23. Song in the Manner of Housman O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were Dead already. The bird sits on the hawthorn tree But he dies also, presently. Some lads get hung, and some get shot. Woeful is this human lot. Woe! woe, etcetera. . . […]...
24. Sonnet 02: Time Does Not Bring Relief; You All Have Lied Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time would ease me of my pain! I miss him in the weeping of the rain; I want him at the shrinking of the tide; The old snows melt from every mountain-side, And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane; But last […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. A Nativity 1914-18 The Babe was laid in the Manger Between the gentle kine All safe from cold and danger “But it was not so with mine, (With mine! With mine!) “Is it well with the child, is it well?” The waiting mother prayed. “For I know not how he fell, And I know not where he […]...
27. Torn Shades How, in the first place, did They get torn-pulled down hard Too many times: to hide a blow, Or sex, or a man In stained pajamas? The tear blade-shaped, Serrated, in tatters. And once, In a house flatside to a gas station, As snow fell at a speed and angle you could lean on, Two […]...
28. Uriel IT fell in the ancient periods Which the brooding soul surveys, Or ever the wild Time coin’d itself Into calendar months and days. This was the lapse of Uriel, Which in Paradise befell. Once, among the Pleiads walking, Sayd overheard the young gods talking; And the treason, too long pent, To his ears was evident. […]...
29. THE DAYS GO BY for Daniel Weissbort Some poems meant only for my eyes About a grief I can’t let go But I want to, want to throw It away like an old worn-out cloak Or screw up like a ball of over-written Trash and toss into the corner bin. I said it must come up or out I […]...
30. Lost You left me with the autumn time; When the winter stripped the forest bare, Then dressed it in his spotless rime; When frosts were lurking in the air You left me here and went away. The winds were cold; you could not stay. You sought a warmer clime, until The south wind, artful maid, should […]...
31. Flag of the Southern Cross Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Stain’d with the blood of the diggers who died by it, Fling out the flag to the […]...
32. The Death of Prince Leopold Alas! noble Prince Leopold, he is dead! Who often has his lustre shed: Especially by singing for the benefit of Esher School, Which proves he was a wise prince. and no conceited fool. Methinks I see him on the platform singing the Sands o’ Dee, The generous-hearted Leopold, the good and the free, Who was […]...
33. Low Tide on Grand Pré The sun goes down, and over all These barren reaches by the tide Such unelusive glories fall, I almost dream they yet will bide Until the coming of the tide. And yet I know that not for us, By any ecstasy of dream, He lingers to keep luminous A little while the grievous stream, Which […]...
34. Old And New Long have the poets vaunted, in their lays, Old times, old loves, old friendships, and old wine Why should the old monopolise all praise? Then let the new claim mine. Give me strong new friends, when the old prove weak, Or fail me in my darkest hour of need; Why perish with the ship that […]...
35. Pennies A few long-hoarded pennies in his hand Behold him stand; A kilted Hedonist, perplexed and sad. The joy that once he had, The first delight of ownership is fled. He bows his little head. Ah, cruel Time, to kill That splendid thrill! Then in his tear-dimmed eyes New lights arise. He drops his treasured pennies […]...
36. To The Memory Of Mr Oldham Farewell, too little and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own; For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mould with mine. One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike. To the same goal did both […]...
37. The Three Enemies THE FLESH “Sweet, thou art pale.” “More pale to see, Christ hung upon the cruel tree And bore His Father’s wrath for me.” “Sweet, thou art sad.” “Beneath a rod More heavy, Christ for my sake trod The winepress of the wrath of God.” “Sweet, thou art weary.” “Not so Christ: Whose mighty love of […]...
38. Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly. Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye: Thou dost love her because thou know’st I love her, […]...
39. All Roads That Lead To God Are Good All roads that lead to God are good. What matters it, your faith, or mine? Both centre at the goal divine Of love’s eternal Brotherhood. The kindly life in house or street – The life of prayer and mystic rite – The student’s search for truth and light – These paths at one great Junction […]...
40. Her Vision In The Wood Dry timber under that rich foliage, At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood, Too old for a man’s love I stood in rage Imagining men. Imagining that I could A greater with a lesser pang assuage Or but to find if withered vein ran blood, I tore my body that its wine might cover Whatever […]...