Going to Him! Happy letter!

Related poetry:

1. Move Eastward, Happy Earth Move eastward, happy earth, and leave Yon orange sunset waning slow: From fringes of the faded eve, O, happy planet, eastward go: Till over thy dark shoulder glow Thy silver sister world, and rise To glass herself in dewey eyes That watch me from the glen below. Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne, Dip […]...
2. The Way I read a Letter's this The Way I read a Letter’s this ‘Tis first I lock the Door And push it with my fingers next For transport it be sure And then I go the furthest off To counteract a knock Then draw my little Letter forth And slowly pick the lock Then glancing narrow, at the Wall And narrow […]...
3. This is my letter to the World This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me The simple News that Nature told With tender Majesty Her Message is committed To Hands I cannot see For love of Her Sweet countrymen Judge tenderly of Me...
4. Belshazzar had a Letter Belshazzar had a Letter He never had but one Belshazzar’s Correspondent Concluded and begun In that immortal Copy The Conscience of us all Can read without its Glasses On Revelation’s Wall...
5. By a flower By a letter By a flower By a letter By a nimble love If I weld the Rivet faster Final fast above Never mind my breathless Anvil! Never mind Repose! Never mind the sooty faces Tugging at the Forge!...
6. Song For The Severed Head In 'The King Of The Great Clock Tower&#039 Saddle and ride, I heard a man say, Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea, What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower? All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling tide, The meet’s upon the mountain-side. A slow low note and an iron bell. What brought them there so far from their […]...
7. Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters Most happy letters, fram’d by skilful trade, With which that happy name was first design’d: The which three times thrice happy hath me made, With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind. The first my being to me gave by kind, From mother’s womb deriv’d by due descent, The second is my sovereign Queen most […]...
8. Happy The Man Happy the man, and happy he alone, He who can call today his own: He who, secure within, can say, Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today. Be fair or foul or rain or shine The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine. Not Heaven itself upon the past has […]...
9. Her Letter “I’m taking pen in hand this night, and hard it is for me; My poor old fingers tremble so, my hand is stiff and slow, And even with my glasses on I’m troubled sore to see. . . . You’d little know your mother, boy; you’d little, little know. You mind how brisk and bright […]...
10. Letter To My Wife 11-11-1933 Bursa Prison My one and only! Your last letter says: “My head is throbbing, my heart is stunned!” You say: “If they hang you, if I lose you, I’ll die!” You’ll live, my dear My memory will vanish like black smoke in the wind. Of course you’ll live, red-haired lady of my heart: In […]...
11. Sonnet 28: How can I then return in happy plight How can I then return in happy plight That am debarred the benefit of rest? When day’s oppression is not eased by night, But day by night, and night by day oppressed? And each, though enemies to either’s reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me, The one by toil, the other to complain […]...
12. Merry Christmas And Happy New Year! Little cullud Rastus come a-skippin’ down de street, A-smilin’ and a-grinnin’ at every one he meet; My, oh! He was happy! Boy, but was he gay! Wishin’ “Merry Chris’mus” an’ “Happy New-Year’s Day”! Wishin’ that his wishes might every one come true- And-bless your dear heart, honey,-I wish the same to you!...
13. How happy I was if I could forget How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom Keeps making November difficult Till I who was almost bold Lose my way like a little Child And perish of the cold....
14. She's happy, with a new Content She’s happy, with a new Content That feels to her like Sacrament She’s busy with an altered Care As just apprenticed to the Air She’s tearful if she weep at all For blissful Causes Most of all That Heaven permit so meek as her To such a Fate to Minister....
15. How happy is the little Stone How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity...
16. A happy lip breaks sudden A happy lip breaks sudden It doesn’t state you how It contemplated smiling Just consummated now But this one, wears its merriment So patient like a pain Fresh gilded to elude the eyes Unqualified, to scan...
17. A Letter To My Aunt A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The literary Chankley Bore, The paths are hard, for you are not A literary Hottentot But just a kind and cultured dame Who knows not Eliot (to her shame). Fie on you, aunt, that you should […]...
18. Happy As The Day Is Long I take the long walk up the staircase to my secret room. Today’s big news: they found Amelia Earhart’s shoe, size 9. 1992: Charlie Christian is bebopping at Minton’s in 1941. Today, the Presidential primaries have failed us once again. We’ll look for our excitement elsewhere, in the last snow That is falling, in tomorrow’s […]...
19. Happy Is England! I Could Be Content Happy is England! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent; Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And […]...
20. How still, how happy! How still, how happy! Those are words That once would scarce agree together; I loved the plashing of the surge – The changing heaven the breezy weather, More than smooth seas and cloudless skies And solemn, soothing, softened airs That in the forest woke no sighs And from the green spray shook no tears. How […]...
21. Letter To N. Y For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you’d say Where you are going and what you are doing; How are the plays and after the plays What other pleasures you’re pursuing: Taking cabs in the middle of the night, Driving as if to save your soul Where the road gose round and round […]...
22. A Happy Man When these graven lines you see, Traveller, do not pity me; Though I be among the dead, Let no mournful word be said. Children that I leave behind, And their children, all were kind; Near to them and to my wife, I was happy all my life. My three sons I married right, And their […]...
23. The Letter What is she writing? Watch her now, How fast her fingers move! How eagerly her youthful brow Is bent in thought above! Her long curls, drooping, shade the light, She puts them quick aside, Nor knows, that band of crystals bright, Her hasty touch untied. It slips adown her silken dress, Falls glittering at her […]...
24. Letter S THE RIVER is gold under a sunset of Illinois. It is a molten gold someone pours and changes. A woman mixing a wedding cake of butter and eggs Knows what the sunset is pouring on the river here. The river twists in a letter S. A gold S now speaks to the Illinois sky....
25. Psalm XXXII: Happy the Man Happy the man to whom his God No more imputes his sin, But, washed in the Redeemer’s blood, Hath made his garments clean. Happy beyond expression he Who debts are thus discharged; And from the guilty bondage free, He feels his soul enlarged. His spirit hates deceit and lies, His words are all sincere; He […]...
26. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10: Letter From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon above black trees, and clouds, and Venus,- And turns to write. . . The clock, behind ticks softly. It is so long, indeed, since I have written,- Two years, almost, your last is turning yellow,- […]...
27. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
28. A Letter to Lady Margaret Cavendish Holles-Harley, when a Child MY noble, lovely, little Peggy, Let this my First Epistle beg ye, At dawn of morn, and close of even, To lift your heart and hands to Heaven. In double duty say your prayer: Our Father first, then Notre Pere. And, dearest child, along the day, In every thing you do and say, Obey and […]...
29. The Junk Man I AM glad God saw Death And gave Death a job taking care of all who are tired Of living: When all the wheels in a clock are worn and slow and The connections loose And the clock goes on ticking and telling the wrong time From hour to hour And people around the house […]...
30. The Day came slow till Five o'clock The Day came slow till Five o’clock Then sprang before the Hills Like Hindered Rubies or the Light A Sudden Musket spills The Purple could not keep the East The Sunrise shook abroad Like Breadths of Topaz packed a Night The Lady just unrolled The Happy Winds their Timbrels took The Birds in docile Rows […]...
31. Happy the Lab'rer Happy the lab’rer in his Sunday clothes! In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn’d hose, Andhat upon his head, to church he goes; As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws A glance upon the ample cabbage rose That, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose, He envies not the gayest London beaux. In church he takes […]...
32. Letter Home New Orleans, November 1910 Four weeks have passed since I left, and still I must write to you of no work. I’ve worn down The soles and walked through the tightness Of my new shoes calling upon the merchants, Their offices bustling. All the while I kept thinking My plain English and good writing would […]...
33. A Letter a penny for your thoughts my dear how are you Got things to tell got to stand naked before you Disintegration now depicts my inner me were you Here you might see no difference within but you I’m sure don’t have to be here to find out how yours Is different now simply because everything […]...
34. Memoriam A. H. H.: 44. How fares it with the happy dead? How fares it with the happy dead? For here the man is more and more; But he forgets the days before God shut the doorways of his head. The days have vanish’d, tone and tint, And yet perhaps the hoarding sense Gives out at times (he knows not whence) A little flash, a mystic hint; […]...
35. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
36. LETTER FROM LEEDS Would ‘any woman’ find me difficult to live with? My tastes are simple: space for several thousand books, The smoke from my pipe stuffed with aromatic Balkan Sobranie, A leftover from the Sixties, frequent brief absences to fulfil My duties as a carer, unending phone calls And the unenviable reputation as England’s worst or best […]...
37. You love the Lord you cannot see You love the Lord you cannot see You write Him every day A little note when you awake And further in the Day. An Ample Letter How you miss And would delight to see But then His House is but a Step And Mine’s in Heaven You see....
38. LETTER TO MICHAEL HOROVITZ It is time after thirty years We had our Poetry Renaissance Rise, Children of Albion, rise! It is time after nightmares of sleep When we walked the streets of inner cities Our poems among the burnt-out houses And cars, whispering compassion To the addicts shaking and the homeless Waking and those who have come apart […]...
39. The "happy isles" of horace Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles In the golden haze off yonder, Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles, And the ocean loves to wander. Fragrant the vines that mantle those hills, Proudly the fig rejoices; Merrily dance the virgin rills, Blending their myriad voices. Our herds shall fear no evil there, […]...
40. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, Full of white shirts and salad greens, The icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, And I wore movies in my eyes, And you wore eggs in your tunnel, And we played sheets, sheets, sheets All day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I […]...