'Twas the old road through pain

Related poetry:

1. 'Twas Love not me ‘Twas Love not me Oh punish pray The Real one died for Thee Just Him not me Such Guilt to love Thee most! Doom it beyond the Rest Forgive it last ‘Twas base as Jesus most! Let Justice not mistake We Two looked so alike Which was the Guilty Sake ‘Twas Love’s Now Strike!...
2. 'Twas comfort in her Dying Room ‘Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock Diversion from the Dying Theme To hear the children play But wrong the more That these could live And this of ours must die....
3. 'Twas later when the summer went ‘Twas later when the summer went Than when the Cricket came And yet we knew that gentle Clock Meant nought but Going Home ‘Twas sooner when the Cricket went Than when the Winter came Yet that pathetic Pendulum Keeps esoteric Time....
4. The Pain of Earth DOES the earth grow grey with grief For her hero darling fled? Though her vales let fall no leaf, In our hearts her tears are shed. Still the stars laugh on above: Not to them her grief is said; Mourning for her hero love In our hearts the tears are shed. We her children mourn […]...
5. 'Twas warm at first like Us ‘Twas warm at first like Us Until there crept upon A Chill like frost upon a Glass Till all the scene be gone. The Forehead copied Stone The Fingers grew too cold To ache and like a Skater’s Brook The busy eyes congealed It straightened that was all It crowded Cold to Cold It multiplied […]...
6. 531. Song-'Twas na her bonie blue e'e ‘TWAS na her bonie blue e’e was my ruin, Fair tho’ she be, that was ne’er my undoin’; ‘Twas the dear smile when nae body did mind us, ‘Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness: ‘Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness. Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, Sair […]...
7. It ceased to hurt me, though so slow It ceased to hurt me, though so slow I could not feel the Anguish go But only knew by looking back That something had benumbed the Track Nor when it altered, I could say, For I had worn it, every day, As constant as the Childish frock I hung upon the Peg, at night. But […]...
8. The Road to Gundagai The mountain road goes up and down From Gundagai to Tumut Town And, branching off, there runs a track Across the foothills grim and black, Across the plains and ranges grey To Sydney city far away. It came by chance one day that I From Tumut rode to Gundagai, And reached about the evening tide […]...
9. The Road to Hogan's Gap Now look, you see, it’s this way like, You cross the broken bridge And run the crick down till you strike The second right-hand ridge. The track is hard to see in parts, But still it’s pretty clear; There’s been two Injin hawkers’ carts Along that road this year. Well, run that right-hand ridge along […]...
10. Because 'twas Riches I could own Because ’twas Riches I could own, Myself had earned it Me, I knew the Dollars by their names It feels like Poverty An Earldom out of sight to hold, An Income in the Air, Possession has a sweeter chink Unto a Miser’s Ear...
11. 'Twas fighting for his Life he was ‘Twas fighting for his Life he was That sort accomplish well The Ordnance of Vitality Is frugal of its Ball. It aims once kills once conquers once There is no second War In that Campaign inscrutable Of the Interior....
12. 'Twas here my summer paused ‘Twas here my summer paused What ripeness after then To other scene or other soul My sentence had begun. To winter to remove With winter to abide Go manacle your icicle Against your Tropic Bride....
13. Too scanty 'twas to die for you Too scanty ’twas to die for you, The merest Greek could that. The living, Sweet, is costlier I offer even that The Dying, is a trifle, past, But living, this include The dying multifold without The Respite to be dead....
14. That after Horror that 'twas us That after Horror that ’twas us That passed the mouldering Pier Just as the Granite Crumb let go Our Savior, by a Hair A second more, had dropped too deep For Fisherman to plumb The very profile of the Thought Puts Recollection numb The possibility to pass Without a Moment’s Bell Into Conjecture’s presence Is […]...
15. 'Twas awkward, but it fitted me ‘Twas awkward, but it fitted me An Ancient fashioned Heart Its only lore its Steadfastness In Change unerudite It only moved as do the Suns For merit of Return Or Birds confirmed perpetual By Alternating Zone I only have it not Tonight In its established place For technicality of Death Omitted in the Lease...
16. I went to thank Her I went to thank Her But She Slept Her Bed a funneled Stone With Nosegays at the Head and Foot That Travellers had thrown Who went to thank Her But She Slept ‘Twas Short to cross the Sea To look upon Her like alive But turning back ’twas slow...
17. 'Twas a long Parting but the time ‘Twas a long Parting but the time For Interview had Come Before the Judgment Seat of God The last and second time These Fleshless Lovers met A Heaven in a Gaze A Heaven of Heavens the Privilege Of one another’s Eyes No Lifetime on Them Appareled as the new Unborn except They had beheld Born […]...
18. 'Twas Crisis All the length had passed ‘Twas Crisis All the length had passed That dull benumbing time There is in Fever or Event And now the Chance had come The instant holding in its claw The privilege to live Or warrant to report the Soul The other side the Grave. The Muscles grappled as with leads That would not let the […]...
19. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
20. 'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch ‘Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch, That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony Toyed coolly with the final inch Of your delirious Hem And you dropt, lost, When something broke And let you from a Dream As if a Goblin with a Gauge Kept measuring the Hours Until you […]...
21. 'Twas just this time, last year, I died ‘Twas just this time, last year, I died. I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms It had the Tassels on I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill And then, I wanted to get out, But something held my will. I thought just how Red […]...
22. Joy to have merited the Pain Joy to have merited the Pain To merit the Release Joy to have perished every step To Compass Paradise Pardon to look upon thy face With these old fashioned Eyes Better than new could be for that Though bought in Paradise Because they looked on thee before And thou hast looked on them Prove Me […]...
23. On the Road to Nowhere On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father’s house With your cheeks aglow? Eyes so strained and eager To see what you might see? Were you thief or were you fool Or most nobly free? Were the tramp-days knightly, True sowing of wild seed? Did you dare […]...
24. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
25. Brookland Road I was very well pleased with what I knowed, I reckoned myself no fool Till I met with a maid on the Brookland Road, That turned me back to school. Low down-low down! Where the liddle green lanterns shine O maids, I’ve done with ‘ee all but one, And she can never’ be mine! ‘Twas […]...
26. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
27. The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me You left me and went on your way. I thought I should mourn for you And set your solitary image in my Heart wrought in a golden song. But ah, my evil fortune, time is Short. Youth wanes year after year; the Spring days are fugitive; the frail Flowers die for nothing, and the wise […]...
28. White in the Moon the Long Road Lies White in the moon the long road lies, The moon stands blank above; White in the moon the long road lies That leads me from my love. Still hangs the hedge without a gust, Still, still the shadows stay: My feet upon the moonlit dust Pursue the ceaseless way. The world is round, so travellers […]...
29. Wynken, Blynken, and Nod Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe, Sailed on a river of crystal light Into a sea of dew. “Where are you going, and what do you wish?” The old moon asked the three. “We have come to fish for the herring-fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of […]...
30. Time Is Time is Too Slow for those who Wait, Too Swift for those who Fear, Too Long for those who Grieve, Too Short for those who Rejoice; But for those who Love, Time is not....
31. The Road The road is thronged with women; soldiers pass And halt, but never see them; yet they’re here – A patient crowd along the sodden grass, Silent, worn out with waiting, sick with fear. The road goes crawling up a long hillside, All ruts and stones and sludge, and the emptied dregs Of battle thrown in […]...
32. I know some lonely Houses off the Road I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber’d like the look of Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to A Portico, Where two could creep One hand the Tools The other peep To make sure All’s Asleep Old fashioned eyes Not easy to surprise! How orderly the Kitchen’d look, by night, With […]...
33. The Wood Road If I were to walk this way Hand in hand with Grief, I should mark that maple-spray Coming into leaf. I should note how the old burrs Rot upon the ground. Yes, though Grief should know me hers While the world goes round, It could not if truth be said This was lost on me: […]...
34. The Road to Old Man's Town The fields of youth are filled with flowers, The wine of youth is strong: What need have we to count the hours? The summer days are long. But soon we find to our dismay That we are drifting down The barren slopes that fall away Towards the foothills grim and grey That lead to Old […]...
35. The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy […]...
36. Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? ‘Tis but as a dead […]...
37. Road and Hills I shall go away To the brown hills, the quiet ones, The vast, the mountainous, the rolling, Sun-fired and drowsy! My horse snuffs delicately At the strange wind; He settles to a swinging trot; his hoofs tramp the dust. The road winds, straightens, Slashes a marsh, Shoulders out a bridge, Then Again the hills. Unchanged, […]...
38. Twas One of Those Dreams ‘TWAS one of those dreams, that by music are brought, Like a bright summer haze, o’er the poet’s warm thought When, lost in the future, his soul wanders on, And all of this life, but its sweetness, is gone. The wild notes he heard o’er the water were those He had taught to sing Erin’s […]...
39. Two Neighbors FACES of two eternities keep looking at me. One is Omar Khayam and the red stuff Wherein men forget yesterday and to-morrow And remember only the voices and songs, The stories, newspapers and fights of today. One is Louis Cornaro and a slim trick Of slow, short meals across slow, short years, Letting Death open […]...
40. My Masterpiece It’s slim and trim and bound in blue; Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold; Its words are simple, stalwart too; Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold. Its pages scintillate with wit; Its pathos clutches at my throat: Oh, how I love each line of it! That Little Book I Never Wrote. In […]...