High waving heather 'neath stormy blasts bending

Related poetry:

1. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 02: One, from his high bright window in a tower One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of the shower Splashing its silver on roofs and walls: Sees how, swift as a shadow, it crosses the city, And murmurs beyond far walls to the sea, Leaving a glimmer of water in the dark […]...
2. OPEN TABLE MANY a guest I’d see to-day, Met to taste my dishes! Food in plenty is prepar’d, Birds, and game, and fishes. Invitations all have had, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Pretty girls I hope to see, Dear and guileless misses, Ignorant how sweet it is Giving tender kisses. […]...
3. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 04: Up high black walls, up sombre terraces Up high black walls, up sombre terraces, Clinging like luminous birds to the sides of cliffs, The yellow lights went climbing towards the sky. From high black walls, gleaming vaguely with rain, Each yellow light looked down like a golden eye. They trembled from coign to coign, and tower to tower, Along high terraces quicker […]...
4. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07: Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out. . . The yellow windows darken, the shades are drawn, In thousands of rooms we sleep, we await the dawn, We lie face down, we dream, We cry aloud with terror, half rise, or seem To stare at the ceiling or walls. […]...
5. Patroling Barnegat WILD, wild the storm, and the sea high running, Steady the roar of the gale, with incessant undertone muttering, Shouts of demoniac laughter fitfully piercing and pealing, Waves, air, midnight, their savagest trinity lashing, Out in the shadows there milk-white combs careering, On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting, Where through the […]...
6. High Noon Time’s finger on the dial of my life Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark, Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end. To those who burn the candle to the stick, The sputtering socket yields but little light. Long life is sadder than early […]...
7. Margaret Many birds and the beating of wings Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy. In your blue eyes, O reckless child, I saw today many little wild wishes, Eager as the great morning....
8. High in the air exposed High in the air exposed the slave is hung, To all the birds of heaven, their living food! He groans not, though awaked by that fierce sun New torturers live to drink their parent blood; He groans not, though the gorging vulture tear The quivering fiber. Hither look, O ye Who tore this man from […]...
9. In a Boat See the stars, love, In the water much clearer and brighter Than those above us, and whiter, Like nenuphars. Star-shadows shine, love, How many stars in your bowl? How many shadows in your soul, Only mine, love, mine? When I move the oars, love, See how the stars are tossed, Distorted, the brightest lost. -So […]...
10. Gloomily the Clouds Gloomily the clouds are sailing O’er the dimly moonlit sky; Dolefully the wind is wailing; Not another sound is nigh; Only I can hear it sweeping Heathclad hill and woodland dale, And at times the nights’s sad weeping Sounds above its dying wail. Now the struggling moonbeams glimmer; Now the shadows deeper fall, Till the […]...
11. To The Man Of The High North My rhymes are rough, and often in my rhyming I’ve drifted, silver-sailed, on seas of dream, Hearing afar the bells of Elfland chiming, Seeing the groves of Arcadie agleam. I was the thrall of Beauty that rejoices From peak snow-diademed to regal star; Yet to mine aerie ever pierced the voices, The pregnant voices of […]...
12. In the High Leaves of a Walnut In the high leaves of a walnut, On the very topmost boughs, A boy that climbed the branching bole His cradled limbs would house. On the airy bed that rocked him Long, idle hours he’d lie Alone with white clouds sailing The warm blue of the sky. I remember not what his dreams were; But […]...
13. To Summer O thou who passest thro’ our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer, Oft pitched’st here thy goldent tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair. Beneath our thickest shades we […]...
14. The Waving Of The Corn Ploughman, whose gnarly hand yet kindly wheeled Thy plough to ring this solitary tree With clover, whose round plat, reserved a-field, In cool green radius twice my length may be Scanting the corn thy furrows else might yield, To pleasure August, bees, fair thoughts, and me, That here come oft together daily I, Stretched prone […]...
15. Not Waving But Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too […]...
16. The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lordly mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fate. The lonely sunsets flame and die; The giant valleys gulp the night; The monster mountains scrape the sky, Where eager stars are diamond-bright. So gaunt against the gibbous moon, Piercing the silence […]...
17. THE BRIDGE I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose o’er the city, Behind the dark church-tower. I saw her bright reflection In the waters under me, Like a golden goblet falling And sinking into the sea. And far in the hazy distance Of that lovely night […]...
18. She Dried Her Tears She dried her tears and they did smile To see her cheeks’ returning glow How little dreaming all the while That full heart throbbed to overflow With that sweet look and lively tone And bright eye shining all the day They could not guess at midnight lone How she would weep the time away...
19. Sorrow's Uses The uses of sorrow I comprehend Better and better at each year’s end. Deeper and deeper I seem to see Why and wherefore it has to be Only after the dark, wet days Do we fully rejoice in the sun’s bright rays. Sweeter the crust tastes after the fast Than the sated gourmand’s finest repast. […]...
20. Quiet Night Thoughts Before my bed There is bright moonlight So that it seems Like frost on the ground: Lifting my head I watch the bright moon, Lowering my head I dream that I’m home....
21. Like Barley Bending Like barley bending In low fields by the sea, Singing in hard wind Ceaselessly; Like barley bending And rising again, So would I, unbroken, Rise from pain; So would I softly, Day long, night long, Change my sorrow Into song....
22. Low at my problem bending Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes Larger than mine Serener Involving statelier sums. I check my busy pencil, My figures file away. Wherefore, my baffled fingers They perplexity?...
23. Mystic shadow, bending near me Mystic shadow, bending near me, Who art thou? Whence come ye? And tell me is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fire? Tell me! Fear not that I should quaver. For I dare I dare. Then, tell me!...
24. We never know how high we are We never know how high we are Till we are asked to rise And then if we are true to plan Our statures touch the skies The Heroism we recite Would be a normal thing Did not ourselves the Cubits warp For fear to be a King...
25. Men Of The High North Men of the High North, the wild sky is blazing; Islands of opal float on silver seas; Swift splendors kindle, barbaric, amazing; Pale ports of amber, golden argosies. Ringed all around us the proud peaks are glowing; Fierce chiefs in council, their wigwam the sky; Far, far below us the big Yukon flowing, Like threaded […]...
26. It Is the Hour It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale’s high note is heard; It is the hour when lover’s vows Seem sweet in every whisper’d word; And gentle winds and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And […]...
27. High Talk Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye. What if my great-granddad had a pair that were twenty foot high, And mine were but fifteen foot, no modern Stalks upon higher, Some rogue of the world stole them to patch up a fence or a fire. Because piebald ponies, led bears, caged […]...
28. I stood upon a high place I stood upon a high place, And saw, below, many devils Running, leaping, And carousing in sin. One looked up, grinning, And said, “Comrade! Brother!”...
29. The Pile of Years is not so high The Pile of Years is not so high As when you came before But it is rising every Day From recollection’s Floor And while by standing on my Heart I still can reach the top Efface the mountain with your face And catch me ere I drop...
30. Son-Days 1 Bright shadows of true Rest! some shoots of bliss, Heaven once a week; The next world’s gladness prepossest in this; A day to seek; Eternity in time; the steps by which We Climb above all ages; Lamps that light Man through his heap of dark days; and the rich, And full redemption of the […]...
31. Swing high and swing low Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow – It’s off for a sailor thy father would go; And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea, He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me: “Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow!” Swing high […]...
32. Lament of the Frontier Guard By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand, Lonely from the beginning of time until now! Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn. I climb the towers and towers To watch out the barbarous land: Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert. There is no wall left to this village. Bones white […]...
33. My Kingdom Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out, Some yellow and some red. I called the little pool a sea; The little hills were big to me; For I am very small. I made […]...
34. High Windows When I see a couple of kids And guess he’s fucking her and she’s Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm, I know this is paradise Everyone old has dreamed of all their lives Bonds and gestures pushed to one side Like an outdated combine harvester, And everyone young going down the long slide To happiness, […]...
35. Westward on the High-Hilled Plains Westward on the high-hilled plains Where for me the world began, Still, I think, in newer veins Frets the changeless blood of man. Now that other lads than I Strip to bathe on Severn shore, They, no help, for all they try, Tread the mill I trod before. There, when hueless is the west And […]...
36. Song To Diana Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia’s shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then […]...
37. Hymn To Diana Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia’s shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then […]...
38. High from the earth I heard a bird High from the earth I heard a bird, He trod upon the trees As he esteemed them trifles, And then he spied a breeze, And situated softly Upon a pile of wind Which in a perturbation Nature had left behind. A joyous going fellow I gathered from his talk Which both of benediction And badinage […]...
39. Love thou art high Love thou art high I cannot climb thee But, were it Two Who know but we Taking turns at the Chimborazo Ducal at last stand up by thee Love thou are deep I cannot cross thee But, were there Two Instead of One Rower, and Yacht some sovereign Summer Who knows but we’d reach the […]...
40. The Strength of the Lonely (What the Mendicant Said ) The moon’s a monk, unmated, Who walks his cell, the sky. His strength is that of heaven-vowed men Who all life’s flames defy. They turn to stars or shadows, They go like snow or dew- Leaving behind no sorrow- Only the arching blue....