God is a distant stately Lover

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1. Priscilla Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire, Driving a red-meat bus out there How did he win his Croix de Guerre? Bless you, that’s all old stuff: Beast of a night on the Verdun road, Jerry stuck with a woeful load, Stalled in the mud where the red lights glowed, Prospect devilish tough. “Little Priscilla” he called his […]...
2. Imanuel Ehrenhardt I began with Sir William Hamilton’s lectures. Then studied Dugald Stewart; And then John Locke on the Understanding, And then Descartes, Fichte and Schelling, Kant and then Schopenhauer Books I borrowed from old Judge Somers. All read with rapturous industry Hoping it was reserved to me To grasp the tail of the ultimate secret, And […]...
3. TO THE DISTANT ONE AND have I lost thee evermore? Hast thou, oh fair one, from me flown? Still in mine ear sounds, as of yore, Thine ev’ry word, thine ev’ry tone. As when at morn the wand’rer’s eye Attempts to pierce the air in vain, When, hidden in the azure sky, The lark high o’er him chaunts his […]...
4. A Lover's Call XXVII Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you As infants look upon the breast of their mothers? Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice? […]...
5. XIV. On a Distant View of England AH! from my eyes the tears unbidden start, Albion! as now thy cliffs (that bright appear Far o’er the wave, and their proud summits rear To meet the beams of morn) my beating heart, With eager hope, and filial transport hails! Scenes of my youth, reviving gales ye bring. As when, ere while, the tuneful […]...
6. The Moon is distant from the Sea The Moon is distant from the Sea And yet, with Amber Hands She leads Him docile as a Boy Along appointed Sands He never misses a Degree Obedient to Her Eye He comes just so far toward the Town Just so far goes away Oh, Signor, Thine, the Amber Hand And mine the distant Sea […]...
7. John Anderson John Anderson, my jo John, When we were first acquent Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is bald, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo! John Anderson, my jo John, We clamb the hill thegither, And […]...
8. 271. Song-John Anderson, My Jo JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John, When we were first acquent; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And […]...
9. On A Distant View Of Harrow Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, […]...
10. Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Eton College Ye distant spires, ye antique towers, That crown the watery glade, Where grateful Science still adores Her Henry’s holy shade; And ye, that from the stately brow Of Windsor’s heights th’ expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way. […]...
11. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
12. A Distant Recluse To: E. D.) Supposing I were really there In Kosovo, Aceh, or East Timor And lived myself every horror The media have reported over Would I still and all care about The latest Nokia handphone, The newly launched Audi vehicle Or british league of football? (Each second it grows imminent: Man metamorphosing into alien; I […]...
13. The Ballad Of A Bachelor Listen, ladies, while I sing The ballad of John Henry King. John Henry was a bachelor, His age was thirty-three or four. Two maids for his affection vied, And each desired to be his bride, And bravely did they strive to bring Unto their feet John Henry King. John Henry liked them both so well, […]...
14. The Distant Winter from an officer’s diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. “Stephan! Stephan!” The rattling orderly Comes on a trot, the cold tray in his hands: Toast whitening with oleo, brown tea, Yesterday’s napkins, and an opened letter. “Your asthma’s bad, old man.” He doesn’t answer, And turns to […]...
15. How Distant How distant, the departure of young men Down valleys, or watching The green shore past the salt-white cordage Rising and falling. Cattlemen, or carpenters, or keen Simply to get away From married villages before morning, Melodeons play On tiny decks past fraying cliffs of water Or late at night Sweet under the differently-swung stars, When […]...
16. The Constant Lover Out upon it, I have lov’d Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall molt away his wings Ere he shall discover In such whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on’t is, no praise Is due at all to me: […]...
17. Distant Time I know not from what distant time Thou art ever coming nearer to meet me. Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye. In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard And thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret. I know not […]...
18. The Marionettes Of Distant Masters A pianist dreams that he’s hired by a wrecking company to Ruin a piano with his fingers. . . On the day of the piano wrecking concert, as he’s Dressing, he notices a butterfly annoying a flower in his window Box. He wonders if the police should be called. Then he thinks Maybe the butterfly […]...
19. The Bird did prance the Bee did play The Bird did prance the Bee did play The Sun ran miles away So blind with joy he could not choose Between his Holiday The morn was up the meadows out The Fences all but ran, Republic of Delight, I thought Where each is Citizen From Heavy laden Lands to thee Were seas to cross […]...
20. Llewellyn and the Tree Could he have made Priscilla share The paradise that he had planned, Llewellyn would have loved his wife As well as any in the land. Could he have made Priscilla cease To goad him for what God left out, Llewellyn would have been as mild As any we have read about. Could all have been […]...
21. The Twins There were two brothers, John and James, And when the town went up in flames, To save the house of James dashed John, Then turned, and lo! his own was gone. And when the great World War began, To volunteer John promptly ran; And while he learned live bombs to lob, James stayed at home […]...
22. On a Lady Throwing Snow-Balls at Her Lover [From the Latin of Petronious Ascanius.] When, wanton fair, the snowy orb you throw, I feel a fire before unknown in snow. E’en coldest snow I find has pow’r to warm My breast, when flung by Julia’s lovely arm. T’elude love’s pow’rful arts I strive in vain, If ice and snow can latent fires contain. […]...
23. The Married Lover Why, having won her, do I woo? Because her spirit’s vestal grace Provokes me always to pursue, But, spirit-like, eludes embrace; Because her womanhood is such That, as on court-days subjects kiss The Queen’s hand, yet so near a touch Affirms no mean familiarness; Nay, rather marks more fair the height Which can with safety […]...
24. Where Shall the Lover Rest Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From the true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the fair billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. Chorus. Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce […]...
25. Choose your obsessions Choose your obsessions For they are unworthy possessions Trojan horses They bind you Without you realizing They hinder your natural design And make you completely blind Choose your obsessions For they are unworthy possessions; They are the weeds, You; yourself choose to grow. Some seeds are rotten.. Still you keep them, them, you don’t throw. […]...
26. When a Lover is a Beggar When a Lover is a Beggar Abject is his Knee When a Lover is an Owner Different is he What he begged is then the Beggar Oh disparity Bread of Heaven resents bestowal Like an obloquy...
27. The Imperfect Lover I never asked you to be perfect-did I?- Though often I’ve called you sweet, in the invasion Of mastering love. I never prayed that you Might stand, unsoiled, angelic and inhuman, Pointing the way toward Sainthood like a sign-post. Oh yes, I know the way to heaven was easy. We found the little kingdom of […]...
28. The Great Lover I have been so great a lover: filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love’s praise, The pain, the calm, and the astonishment, Desire illimitable, and silent content, And all dear names men use, to cheat despair, For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear Our hearts at random down the dark of […]...
29. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
30. Porphyria's Lover The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its worst to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze […]...
31. The Lover in Hell Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil. . . . How merry Those little devils are! They’ve stolen the pitchfork From Bel, there, as he slept. . . Look! oh look, look! They’ve got at Nero! Oh it isn’t fair! Lord, how he squeals! Stop it. . . it’s, […]...
32. A Lover's Complaint FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded A plaintful story from a sistering vale, My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale; Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale, Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain, Storming her world with sorrow’s wind and rain. Upon […]...
33. Searcy Foote I wanted to go away to college But rich Aunt Persis wouldn’t help me. So I made gardens and raked the lawns And bought John Alden’s books with my earnings And toiled for the very means of life. I wanted to marry Delia Prickett, But how could I do it with what I earned? And […]...
34. Chase Henry In my life I was the town drunkard; When I died the priest denied me burial In holy ground. The which rebounded to my good fortune. For the Protestants bought this lot, And buried my body here, Close to the grave of the banker Nicholas, And of his wife Priscilla. Take note, ye prudent and […]...
35. Adoption Because I was a woman lone And had of friends so few, I made two little ones my own, Whose parents no one knew; Unwanted foundlings of the night, Left at the convent door, Whose tiny hands in piteous plight Seemed to implore. By Deed to them I gave my name, And never will they […]...
36. If It Is True What the Prophets Write If it is true, what the Prophets write, That the heathen gods are all stocks and stones, Shall we, for the sake of being polite, Feed them with the juice of our marrow-bones? And if Bezaleel and Aholiab drew What the finger of God pointed to their view, Shall we suffer the Roman and Grecian […]...
37. Self-Love He that cannot choose but love, And strives against it still, Never shall my fancy move, For he loves ‘gainst his will; Nor he which is all his own, And can at pleasure choose, When I am caught he can be gone, And when he list refuse. Nor he that loves none but fair, For […]...
38. Of this is Day composed Of this is Day composed A morning and a noon A Revelry unspeakable And then a gay unknown Whose Pomps allure and spurn And dower and deprive And penury for Glory Remedilessly leave....
39. That short potential stir That short potential stir That each can make but once That Bustle so illustrious ‘Tis almost Consequence Is the eclat of Death Oh, thou unknown Renown That not a Beggar would accept Had he the power to spurn...
40. The first Day that I was a Life The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it How still That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it as well ‘Twas stiller though the first Was still “Twas empty but the first Was full This was my finallest Occasion But then My tenderer Experiment Toward Men “Which choose I”? […]...