The Bible is an antique Volume

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1. Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window Sunday, I am eating a Grapefruit, church is over at the Russian Orthadox to the West. She is dark Of Eastern descent, Large brown eyes look up from the Bible Then down. a small red and black Bible, and as she reads Her legs keep moving, moving, She is doing a slow rythmic dance Reading […]...
2. Suggested by the Cover of a Volume of Keats's Poems Wild little bird, who chose thee for a sign To put upon the cover of this book? Who heard thee singing in the distance dim, The vague, far greenness of the enshrouding wood, When the damp freshness of the morning earth Was full of pungent sweetness and thy song? Who followed over moss and twisted […]...
3. A faded Boy in sallow Clothes A faded Boy in sallow Clothes Who drove a lonesome Cow To pastures of Oblivion A statesman’s Embryo The Boys that whistled are extinct The Cows that fed and thanked Remanded to a Ballad’s Barn Or Clover’s Retrospect...
4. On The Bible Behold this little volume here inrolde: ‘Tis the Almighty’s present to the world: Hearken earth’s earth; each sencelesse thing can heare His Maker’s thunder, though it want an eare: God’s word is senior to his works, nay rather If rightly weigh’d the world may call it father; God spake, ’twas done; this great foundation Is […]...
5. On A Register For A Bible I am the faythfull deputy Unto your fading memory. Your Index long in search doth hold; Your folded wrinkles make books olde: But I the Scripture open plaine, And what you heard soone teach againe: By mee the Welchman well may bring Himselfe to Heaven in a string....
6. From the Antique It’s a weary life, it is, she said: Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were not: Were nothing at all in all the world, Not a body and not a soul: Not so much as a grain of dust Or a […]...
7. Written in a Volume of the Comtesse de Noailles Be my companion under cool arcades That frame some drowsy street and dazzling square Beyond whose flowers and palm-tree promenades White belfries burn in the blue tropic air. Lie near me in dim forests where the croon Of wood-doves sounds and moss-banked water flows, Or musing late till the midsummer moon Breaks through some ruined […]...
8. The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1: 1931-1934 “Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted […]...
9. EXPLANATION OF AN ANTIQUE GEM A YOUNG fig-tree its form lifts high Within a beauteous garden; And see, a goat is sitting by. As if he were its warden. But oh, Quirites, how one errs! The tree is guarded badly; For round the other side there whirrs And hums a beetle madly. The hero with his well-mail’d coat Nibbles the […]...
10. The Antique To The Northern Wanderer Thou hast crossed over torrents, and swung through wide-spreading ocean, Over the chain of the Alps dizzily bore thee the bridge, That thou might’st see me from near, and learn to value my beauty, Which the voice of renown spreads through the wandering world. And now before me thou standest, canst touch my altar so […]...
11. One Wants A Teller In A Time Like This One wants a teller in a time like this One’s not a man, one’s not a woman grown To bear enormous business all alone. One cannot walk this winding street with pride Straight-shouldered, tranquil-eyed, Knowing one knows for sure the way back home. One wonders if one has a home. One is not certain if […]...
12. Sonnet XXVI: Where Antique Woods Where antique woods o’er-hang the mountains’s crest, And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour; Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow’r, And waste life’s fervid noon in fancied rest. Go, where the bird of sorrow weaves her nest, Cooing, in sadness sweet, through night’s dim hour; Go, cull the dew-drops from each potent flow’r That med’cines […]...
13. I'm sorry for the Dead Today I’m sorry for the Dead Today It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences It’s time o’ year for Hay. And Broad Sunburned Acquaintance Discourse between the Toil And laugh, a homely species That makes the Fences smile It seems so straight to lie away From all of the noise of Fields The Busy […]...
14. What is "Paradise&quot What is “Paradise” Who live there Are they “Farmers” Do they “hoe” Do they know that this is “Amherst” And that I am coming too Do they wear “new shoes” in “Eden” Is it always pleasant there Won’t they scold us when we’re homesick Or tell God how cross we are You are sure there’s […]...
15. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
16. Stripes POLICEMAN in front of a bank 3 A. M. … lonely. Policeman State and Madison… high noon… mobs… cars… parcels… lonely. Woman in suburbs… keeping night watch on a sleeping typhoid patient… only a clock to talk to… lonesome. Woman selling gloves… bargain day department store… furious crazy-work of many hands slipping in and out […]...
17. Glee The great storm is over Glee The great storm is over Four have recovered the Land Forty gone down together Into the boiling Sand Ring for the Scant Salvation Toll for the bonnie Souls Neighbor and friend and Bridegroom Spinning upon the Shoals How they will tell the Story When Winter shake the Door Till the Children urge But the […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. The Toy Band A Song of the Great Retreat Dreary lay the long road, dreary lay the town, Lights out and never a glint o’ moon: Weary lay the stragglers, half a thousand down, Sad sighed the weary big Dragoon. “Oh! if I’d a drum here to make them take the road again, Oh! if I’d a fife […]...
20. Manteau Three In the fairy tale the sky makes of itself a coat Because it needs you to put it On. How can it do this? It collects its motes. It condenses its sound- Track, all the pyrric escapes, the pilgrimages still unconsummated, The turreted thoughts of sky it slightly liquefies and droops, the hum of the […]...
21. An Ode, On The Death Of Mr. Henry Purcell Late Servant to his Majesty, and Organist of the Chapel Royal, and Of St. Peter’s Westminster I Mark how the Lark and Linnet Sing, With rival Notes They strain their warbling Throats, To welcome in the Spring. But in the close of Night, When Philomel begins her Heav’nly lay, They cease their mutual spite, Drink […]...
22. A Rat surrendered here A Rat surrendered here A brief career of Cheer And Fraud and Fear. Of Ignominy’s due Let all addicted to Beware. The most obliging Trap Its tendency to snap Cannot resist Temptation is the Friend Repugnantly resigned At last....
23. It is a lonesome Glee It is a lonesome Glee Yet sanctifies the Mind With fair association Afar upon the Wind A Bird to overhear Delight without a Cause Arrestless as invisible A matter of the Skies....
24. A Weight with Needles on the pounds A Weight with Needles on the pounds To push, and pierce, besides That if the Flesh resist the Heft The puncture coolly tries That not a pore be overlooked Of all this Compound Frame As manifold for Anguish As Species be for name...
25. Some keep the Sabbath going to Church Some keep the Sabbath going to Church I keep it, staying at Home With a Bobolink for a Chorister And an Orchard, for a Dome Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice I just wear my Wings And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton sings. God preaches, a noted Clergyman And the […]...
26. 'They&#039 The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back ‘They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought ‘In a just cause: they lead the last attack ‘On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought ‘New right to breed an honourable race, ‘They have challenged Death and dared him face to face.’ ‘We’re none of […]...
27. The Ballad Of Salvation Bill ‘Twas in the bleary middle of the hard-boiled Arctic night, I was lonesome as a loon, so if you can, Imagine my emotions of amazement and delight When I bumped into that Missionary Man. He was lying lost and dying in the moon’s unholy leer, And frozen from his toes to finger-tips’ The famished wolf-pack […]...
28. How Human Nature dotes How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct Prospective is the friend Reserved for us to know When Constancy is clarified Of Curiosity Of subjects that resist Redoubtablest is this Where go we Go we anywhere Creation after this?...
29. Memorial Tablet Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight, (Under Lord Derby’s Scheme). I died in hell – (They called it Passchendaele). My wound was slight, And I was hobbling back; and then a shell Burst slick upon the duck-boards: so I fell Into the bottomless mud, and lost the light. At sermon-time, while Squire […]...
30. Dedication For A Plot Of Ground This plot of ground Facing the waters of this inlet Is dedicated to the living presence of Emily Dickinson Wellcome Who was born in England; married; Lost her husband and with Her five year old son Sailed for New York in a two-master; Was driven to the Azores; Ran adrift on Fire Island shoal, Met […]...
31. Hours Continuing Long HOURS continuing long, sore and heavy-hearted, Hours of the dusk, when I withdraw to a lonesome and unfrequented spot, seating myself, leaning my face in my hands; Hours sleepless, deep in the night, when I go forth, speeding swiftly the country roads, or through the city streets, or pacing miles and miles, stifling plaintive cries; […]...
32. Rebecca Who Slammed Doors For Fun And Perished Miserably A trick that everyone abhors In little girls is slamming doors. A wealthy banker’s little daughter Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater (By name Rebecca Offendort), Was given to this furious sport. She would deliberately go And slam the door like billy-o! To make her uncle Jacob […]...
33. Marthy's younkit The mountain brook sung lonesomelike, and loitered on its way Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play; The wild-flowers uv the hillside bent down their heads to hear The music uv the little feet that had somehow grown so dear; The magpies, like winged shadders, wuz a-flutterin’ to an’ […]...
34. The lonesome for they know not What The lonesome for they know not What The Eastern Exiles be Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday And ever since the purple Moat They strive to climb in vain As Birds that tumble from the clouds Do fumble at the strain The Blessed Ether taught them Some Transatlantic Morn When Heaven was […]...
35. Compensation Pete He used to say: There ain’t a doubt Misfortune is a bitter pill, But if you only pry it out You’ll find there’s good in every ill. There’s comfort in the worst of woe, There’s consolation in defeat. . . Oh what a solace-seeker! So We called him Compensation Pete. He lost his wealth – […]...
36. Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone Is Heaven then a Prison? That Bells should ring till all should know A Soul had gone to Heaven Would seem to me the more the way A Good News should be given....
37. I never felt at Home Below I never felt at Home Below And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home I know I don’t like Paradise Because it’s Sunday all the time And Recess never comes And Eden’ll be so lonesome Bright Wednesday Afternoons If God could make a visit Or ever took a Nap So not to […]...
38. Ontological This is going to cost you. If you really want to hear a Country fiddle, you have to listen Hard, high up in its twang and needle. You can’t be running off like this, All knotted up with yearning, Following some train whistle, Can’t hang onto anything that way. When you’re looking for what’s lost, […]...
39. Song For Saint Cecilia's Day, 1687 From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, Arise, ye more than dead! Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry In order to their stations leap, And Music’s power obey. From […]...
40. Three Balls JABOWSKY’S place is on a side street and only the rain washes the dusty three balls. When I passed the window a month ago, there rested in proud isolation: A family bible with hasps of brass twisted off, a wooden clock with pendulum gone, And a porcelain crucifix with the glaze nicked where the left […]...