Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning

Related poetry:

1. It struck me every Day It struck me every Day The Lightning was as new As if the Cloud that instant slit And let the Fire through It burned Me in the Night It Blistered to My Dream It sickened fresh upon my sight With every Morn that came I though that Storm was brief The Maddest quickest by But […]...
2. The Lightning is a yellow Fork The Lightning is a yellow Fork From Tables in the sky By inadvertent fingers dropt The awful Cutlery Of mansions never quite disclosed And never quite concealed The Apparatus of the Dark To ignorance revealed....
3. The Jay his Castanet has struck The Jay his Castanet has struck Put on your muff for Winter The Tippet that ignores his voice Is impudent to nature Of Swarthy Days he is the close His Lotus is a chestnut The Cricket drops a sable line No more from yours at present...
4. The Lightning playeth all the while The Lightning playeth all the while But when He singeth then Ourselves are conscious He exist And we approach Him stern With Insulators and a Glove Whose short sepulchral Bass Alarms us tho’ His Yellow feet May pass and counterpass Upon the Ropes above our Head Continual with the News Nor We so much as […]...
5. Picnic, Lightning It is possible to be struck by a Meteor or a single-engine plane while Reading in a chair at home. Pedestrians Are flattened by safes falling from Rooftops mostly within the panels of The comics, but still, we know it is Possible, as well as the flash of Summer lightning, the thermos toppling Over, spilling […]...
6. Lightning The oaks shone Gaunt gold On the lip Of the storm before The wind rose, The shapeless mouth Opened and began Its five-hour howl; The lights Went out fast, branches Sidled over The pitch of the roof, bounced Into the year That grew black Within minutes, except For the lightening – the landscape Bulging forth […]...
7. Dream Song 26: The glories of the world struck me The glories of the world struck me, made me aria, once. Гўв‚”What happen then, Mr Bones? If be you cares to say. Гўв‚”Henry. Henry became interested in women’s bodies, His loins were & were the scene of stupendous achievement. Stupor. Knees, dear. Pray. All the knobs & softnesses of, my God, The ducking & trouble […]...
8. The Shepherd's Brow, Fronting Forked Lightning, Owns The shepherd’s brow, fronting forked lightning, owns The horror and the havoc and the glory Of it. Angels fall, they are towers, from heaven-a story Of just, majestical, and giant groans. But man-we, scaffold of score brittle bones; Who breathe, from groundlong babyhood to hoary Age gasp; whose breath is our memento mori – What […]...
9. When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich He paid a Swede twelve bits an hour Just to invent a fancy style To spread the celebration paint So it would show at least a mile. Some things they did I will not tell. They’re not quite proper for a rhyme. But I will say Yim Yonson Swede Did sure invent a sunflower time. […]...
10. Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences As Deity decree Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? […]...
11. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world may stare and never know You and I are twined together so. You and I for all his vaunted width Know the giant Space is but a myth; Over miles and miles of pure deceit […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Good-by and Keep Cold This saying good-by on the edge of the dark And the cold to an orchard so young in the bark Reminds me of all that can happen to harm An orchard away at the end of the farm All winter, cut off by a hill from the house. I don’t want it girdled by rabbit […]...
14. Thread the sky is shattered Its debris Clutters the world’s streets Where the light came from Is a question Charred beyond recognition Heads hang out of walls Limbs unattached Rigid in their will to crawl away But there’s a bird (black In the jagged sky) With a twig still stuck in its beak Is it falling […]...
15. Cuchulain Comforted A man that had six mortal wounds, a man Violent and famous, strode among the dead; Eyes stared out of the branches and were gone. Then certain Shrouds that muttered head to head Came and were gone. He leant upon a tree As though to meditate on wounds and blood. A Shroud that seemed to […]...
16. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
17. A Lady red amid the Hill A Lady red amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps! The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms Sweep vale and hill and tree! Prithee, My pretty Housewives! Who may expected be? The Neighbors do not yet suspect! The Woods exchange a smile! Orchard, and Buttercup, and […]...
18. All the letters I can write All the letters I can write Are not fair as this Syllables of Velvet Sentences of Plush, Depths of Ruby, undrained, Hid, Lip, for Thee Play it were a Humming Bird And just sipped me...
19. I have a King, who does not speak I have a King, who does not speak So wondering thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away Half glad when it is night, and sleep, If, haply, thro’ a dream, to peep In parlors, shut by day. And if I do when morning comes It is as if a hundred drums Did round […]...
20. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
21. A Serenade At The Villa I. That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and tight Tent of heaven, a planet small: Life was dead and so was light. II. Not a twinkle from the fly, Not a glimmer from the worm; When the crickets stopped their cry, When […]...
22. The farthest Thunder that I heard The farthest Thunder that I heard Was nearer than the Sky And rumbles still, though torrid Noons Have lain their missiles by The Lightning that preceded it Struck no one but myself But I would not exchange the Bolt For all the rest of Life Indebtedness to Oxygen The Happy may repay, But not the […]...
23. I am afraid to own a Body I am afraid to own a Body I am afraid to own a Soul Profound precarious Property Possession, not optional Double Estate entailed at pleasure Upon an unsuspecting Heir Duke in a moment of Deathlessness And God, for a Frontier....
24. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
25. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
26. The Summer that we did not prize The Summer that we did not prize, Her treasures were so easy Instructs us by departing now And recognition lazy Bestirs itself puts on its Coat, And scans with fatal promptness For Trains that moment out of sight, Unconscious of his smartness....
27. Jonathan Houghton There is the caw of a crow, And the hesitant song of a thrush. There is the tinkle of a cowbell far away, And the voice of a plowman on Shipley’s hill. The forest beyond the orchard is still With midsummer stillness; And along the road a wagon chuckles, Loaded with corn, going to Atterbury. […]...
28. Freedom I WILL not follow you, my bird, I will not follow you. I would not breathe a word, my bird, To bring thee here anew. I love the free in thee, my bird, The lure of freedom drew; The light you fly toward, my bird, I fly with thee unto. And there we yet will […]...
29. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
30. Facts by our side are never sudden Facts by our side are never sudden Until they look around And then they scare us like a spectre Protruding from the Ground The height of our portentous Neighbor We never know Till summoned to his recognition By an Adieu Adieu for whence The sage cannot conjecture The bravest die As ignorant of their resumption […]...
31. It's coming the postponeless Creature It’s coming the postponeless Creature It gains the Block and now it gains the Door Chooses its latch, from all the other fastenings Enters with a “You know Me Sir”? Simple Salute and certain Recognition Bold were it Enemy Brief were it friend Dresses each House in Crape, and Icicle And carries one out of […]...
32. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
33. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
34. On such a night, or such a night On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair So quiet Oh how quiet, That nobody might know But that the little figure Rocked softer to and fro On such a dawn, or such a dawn Would anybody sigh That such a little […]...
35. The Soul's Superior instants The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her alone When friend and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn Or She Herself ascended To too remote a Height For lower Recognition Than Her Omnipotent This Mortal Abolition Is seldom but as fair As Apparition subject To Autocratic Air Eternity’s disclosure To favorites a few Of the Colossal substance […]...
36. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
37. Yvonne Of Brittany In your mother’s apple-orchard, Just a year ago, last spring: Do you remember, Yvonne! The dear trees lavishing Rain of their starry blossoms To make you a coronet? Do you ever remember, Yvonne, As I remember yet? In your mother’s apple-orchard, When the world was left behind: You were shy, so shy, Yvonne! But your […]...
38. The Life we have is very great The Life we have is very great. The Life that we shall see Surpasses it, we know, because It is Infinity. But when all Space has been beheld And all Dominion shown The smallest Human Heart’s extent Reduces it to none....
39. A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
40. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...