The Frost of Death was on the Pane

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1. The Frost was never seen The Frost was never seen If met, too rapid passed, Or in too unsubstantial Team The Flowers notice first A Stranger hovering round A Symptom of alarm In Villages remotely set But search effaces him Till some retrieveless Night Our Vigilance at waste The Garden gets the only shot That never could be traced. Unproved […]...
2. Till Death is narrow Loving Till Death is narrow Loving The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness be spent But He whose loss procures you Such Destitution that Your Life too abject for itself Thenceforward imitate Until Resemblance perfect Yourself, for His pursuit Delight of Nature abdicate Exhibit Love somewhat...
3. The Frost Spirit He comes, – he comes, – the Frost Spirit comes! You may trace his footsteps now On the naked woods and the blasted fields And the brown hill’s withered brow. He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees Where their pleasant green came forth, And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, Have […]...
4. As Frost is best conceived As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect If when the sun reveal, The Garden keep the Gash If as the Days resume The wilted countenance Cannot correct the crease Or counteract the stain Presumption is Vitality Was somewhere put in twain....
5. When the Frost is on the Punkin When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock, And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock, And the clackin’ of the guineys, and the cluckin’ of the hens, And the rooster’s hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; O, it’s then’s the times a feller is a-feelin’ […]...
6. The Frost-King – Song II Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flowers, Singing little Violet’s name. ‘Mong the green trees was it whispered, And the bright waves bore it on To the lonely forest flowers, Where the glad news had not gone. Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom, And […]...
7. And Death Shall Have No Dominion And death shall have no dominion. Dead mean naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the […]...
8. Of Death I try to think like this Of Death I try to think like this The Well in which they lay us Is but the Likeness of the Brook That menaced not to slay us, But to invite by that Dismay Which is the Zest of sweetness To the same Flower Hesperian, Decoying but to greet us I do remember when a […]...
9. "In White": Frost's Early Version Of Design A dented spider like a snow drop white On a white Heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of lifeless satin cloth – Saw ever curious eye so strange a sight? – Portent in little, assorted death and blight Like the ingredients of a witches’ broth? – The beady spider, the flower like […]...
10. It came at last but prompter Death It came at last but prompter Death Had occupied the House His pallid Furniture arranged And his metallic Peace Oh faithful Frost that kept the Date Had Love as punctual been Delight had aggrandized the Gate And blocked the coming in....
11. The Death of the Flowers The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit’s tread; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs […]...
12. On The Porch At The Frost Place, Franconia, N. H So here the great man stood, Fermenting malice and poems We have to be nearly as fierce Against ourselves as he Not to misread by their disguises. Blue in dawn haze, the tamarack Across the road is new since Frost And thirty feet tall already. No doubt he liked to scorch off Morning fog by […]...
13. Enemy of Death (For Rossana Sironi) You should not have Ripped out your image Taken from us, from the world, A portion of beauty. What can we do We enemies of death, Bent to your feet of rose, Your breast of violet? Not a word, not a scrap Of your last day, a No To earth’s things, a […]...
14. Frost At Midnight The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry Came loud, – and hark, again! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. ‘Tis calm indeed! so calm, […]...
15. It was not Death, for I stood up It was not Death, for I stood up, And all the Dead, lie down It was not Night, for all the Bells Put out their Tongues, for Noon. It was not Frost, for on my Flesh I felt Siroccos crawl Nor Fire for just my Marble feet Could keep a Chancel, cool And yet, it […]...
16. First Death In Nova Scotia In the cold, cold parlor My mother laid out Arthur Beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, With Princess Alexandra, And King George with Queen Mary. Below them on the table Stood a stuffed loon Shot and stuffed by Uncle Arthur, Arthur’s father. Since Uncle Arthur fired A bullet into him, He hadn’t said a […]...
17. The Poet To Death TARRY a while, O Death, I cannot die While yet my sweet life burgeons with its spring; Fair is my youth, and rich the echoing boughs Where dhadikulas sing. Tarry a while, O Death, I cannot die With all my blossoming hopes unharvested, My joys ungarnered, all my songs unsung, And all my tears unshed. […]...
18. Fahr an' Ice, Apologies to Robert Frost From what I know of death, I’ll side with those Who’d like to have a say in how it goes: Just make mine cool, cool rocks (twice drowned in likker), And real fahr off, instead of quicker. Originally published by Light Quarterly...
19. When Death Comes When death comes Like the hungry bear in autumn; When death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse To buy me, and snaps the purse shut; When death comes Like the measle-pox When death comes Like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, […]...
20. Wait till the Majesty of Death Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till in Everlasting Robes That Democrat is dressed, Then prate about “Preferment” And “Station,” and the rest! Around this quiet Courtier Obsequious Angels wait! Full royal is his Retinue! Full purple is his […]...
21. It came his turn to beg It came his turn to beg The begging for the life Is different from another Alms ‘Tis Penury in Chief I scanned his narrow realm I gave him leave to live Lest Gratitude revive the snake Though smuggled his reprieve...
22. Death is a Dialogue between Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death The Spirit “Sir I have another Trust” Death doubts it Argues from the Ground The Spirit turns away Just laying off for evidence An Overcoat of Clay....
23. Incarnate Devil Incarnate devil in a talking snake, The central plains of Asia in his garden, In shaping-time the circle stung awake, In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple, And God walked there who was a fiddling warden And played down pardon from the heavens’ hill. When we were strangers to the guided seas, A […]...
24. Suspense is Hostiler than Death Suspense is Hostiler than Death Death tho’soever Broad, Is Just Death, and cannot increase Suspense does not conclude But perishes to live anew But just anew to die Annihilation plated fresh With Immortality...
25. For Death or rather For Death or rather For the Things ‘twould buy This put away Life’s Opportunity The Things that Death will buy Are Room Escape from Circumstances And a Name With Gifts of Life How Death’s Gifts may compare We know not For the Rates lie Here...
26. At Algeciras – A Meditaton Upon Death The heron-billed pale cattle-birds That feed on some foul parasite Of the Moroccan flocks and herds Cross the narrow Straits to light In the rich midnight of the garden trees Till the dawn break upon those mingled seas. Often at evening when a boy Would I carry to a friend – Hoping more substantial joy […]...
27. THE DEATH OF ART “Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.” -critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry “the death of art.” I am not a poet. I want to be rich and buy things for my family. Besides, I am sort of popular and can honestly say I’ve had a great […]...
28. All but Death, can be Adjusted All but Death, can be Adjusted Dynasties repaired Systems settled in their Sockets Citadels dissolved Wastes of Lives resown with Colors By Succeeding Springs Death unto itself Exception Is exempt from Change...
29. A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London Never until the mankind making Bird beast and flower Fathering and all humbling darkness Tells with silence the last light breaking And the still hour Is come of the sea tumbling in harness And I must enter again the round Zion of the water bead And the synagogue of the ear of corn Shall I […]...
30. Love is that later Thing than Death Love is that later Thing than Death More previous than Life Confirms it at its entrance And Usurps it of itself Tastes Death the first to hand the sting The Second to its friend Disarms the little interval Deposits Him with God Then hovers an inferior Guard Lest this Beloved Charge Need once in an […]...
31. Said Death to Passion Said Death to Passion “Give of thine an Acre unto me.” Said Passion, through contracting Breaths “A Thousand Times Thee Nay.” Bore Death from Passion All His East He sovereign as the Sun Resituated in the West And the Debate was done....
32. So give me back to Death So give me back to Death The Death I never feared Except that it deprived of thee And now, by Life deprived, In my own Grave I breathe And estimate its size Its size is all that Hell can guess And all that Heaven was...
33. Father Death Blues (Don't Grow Old, Part V) Hey Father Death, I’m flying home Hey poor man, you’re all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I’m going Father Death, Don’t cry any more Mama’s there, underneath the floor Brother Death, please mind the store Old Aunty Death Don’t hide your bones Old Uncle Death I hear your groans O Sister Death how […]...
34. Death Snips Proud Men DEATH is stronger than all the governments because the governments are men and men die and then death laughs: Now you see ’em, now you don’t. Death is stronger than all proud men and so death snips proud men on the nose, throws a pair of dice and says: Read ’em and weep. Death sends […]...
35. Elegy On The Death Of A Young Man Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, Echo from the dreary house of woe; Death-notes rise from yonder minster’s towers! Bearing out a youth, they slowly go; Yes! a youth unripe yet for the bier, Gathered in the spring-time of his days, Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, With the flame that in his […]...
36. Bereavement in their death to feel Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs between For Stranger Strangers do not mourn There be Immortal friends Whom Death see first ’tis news of this That paralyze Ourselves Who, vital only to Our Thought Such Presence bear away In dying ’tis as […]...
37. THE DANCE OF DEATH CARRYING bouquet, and handkerchief, and gloves, Proud of her height as when she lived, she moves With all the careless and high-stepping grace, And the extravagant courtesan’s thin face. Was slimmer waist e’er in a ball-room wooed? Her floating robe, in royal amplitude, Falls in deep folds around a dry foot, shod With a bright […]...
38. Sweet is the swamp with its secrets Sweet is the swamp with its secrets, Until we meet a snake; ‘Tis then we sigh for houses, And our departure take At that enthralling gallop That only childhood knows. A snake is summer’s treason, And guile is where it goes....
39. Sonnets 08: And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Du And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head, This body of flame and steel, before the gust Of Death, or under his autumnal frost, Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead Than the first leaf that fell, […]...
40. Death and the Lady TURN in, my lord, she said ; As it were the Father of Sin I have hated the Father of the Dead, The slayer of my kin ; By the Father of the Living led, Turn in, my lord, turn in. We were foes of old ; thy touch was cold, But mine is warm […]...