The Murmur of a Bee

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1. I shall not murmur if at last I shall not murmur if at last The ones I loved below Permission have to understand For what I shunned them so Divulging it would rest my Heart But it would ravage theirs Why, Katie, Treason has a Voice But mine dispels in Tears....
2. A Murmur in the Trees to note A Murmur in the Trees to note Not loud enough for Wind A Star not far enough to seek Nor near enough to find A long long Yellow on the Lawn A Hubbub as of feet Not audible as Ours to Us But dapperer More Sweet A Hurrying Home of little Men To Houses unperceived […]...
3. The Artist The Artist and his Luckless Wife They lead a horrid haunted life, Surrounded by the things he’s made That are not wanted by the trade. The world is very fair to see; The Artist will not let it be; He fiddles with the works of God, And makes them look uncommon odd. The Artist is […]...
4. Sleep is supposed to be Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand Down which, on either hand The hosts of witness stand! Morn is supposed to be By people of degree The breaking of the Day. Morning has not occurred! That shall Aurora be East of Eternity One […]...
5. To His Worthy Friend Doctor Witty Upon His Translation Of The Popular Errors Sit further, and make room for thine own fame, Where just desert enrolles thy honour’d Name The good Interpreter. Some in this task Take of the Cypress vail, but leave a mask, Changing the Latine, but do more obscure That sence in English which was bright and pure. So of Translators they are Authors grown, […]...
6. 31. Song-My Nanie, O! BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows, ‘Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nanie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud an’ shill; The night’s baith mirk and rainy, O; But I’ll get my plaid an’ out I’ll steal, An’ owre the hill to Nanie, O. […]...
7. Beautiful Comrie Ye lovers of the picturesque, away, away! To beautiful Comrie and have a holiday; Aud bask in the sunahine and inhale the fragrant air Emanating from the woodlands and shrubberies there. The charming village of Comrie is most lovely to be seen, Especially in the summer season when the trees are green; And near by […]...
8. We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
9. Dilemma If I were mild, and I were sweet, And laid my heart before your feet, And took my dearest thoughts to you, And hailed your easy lies as true; Were I to murmur “Yes,” and then “How true, my dear,” and “Yes,” again, And wear my eyes discreetly down, And tremble whitely at your frown, […]...
10. I did not reach Thee I did not reach Thee But my feet slip nearer every day Three Rivers and a Hill to cross One Desert and a Sea I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee. Two deserts, but the Year is cold So that will help the sand One desert crossed The second one […]...
11. The Pick I watched him swinging the pick in the sun, Breaking the concrete steps into chunks of rock, And the rocks into dust, And the dust into earth again. I must have sat for a very long time on the split rail fence, Just watching him. My father’s body glistened with sweat, His arms flew like […]...
12. Meeting and Passing As I went down the hill along the wall There was a gate I had leaned at for the view And had just turned from when I first saw you As you came up the hill. We met. But all We did that day was mingle great and small Footprints in summer dust as if […]...
13. Theme For English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here To this college on the hill above Harlem. I am […]...
14. Sonnet 135: Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will, And Will to boot, and Will in overplus; More than enough am I that vex thee still, To thy sweet will making addition thus. Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious, Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine? Shall will in others seem right […]...
15. I should not dare to leave my friend I should not dare to leave my friend, Because because if he should die While I was gone and I too late Should reach the Heart that wanted me If I should disappoint the eyes That hunted hunted so to see And could not bear to shut until They “noticed” me they noticed me If […]...
16. I groped for him before I knew I groped for him before I knew With solemn nameless need All other bounty sudden chaff For this foreshadowed Food Which others taste and spurn and sneer Though I within suppose That consecrated it could be The only Food that grows...
17. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes! Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see That brave vibration each way free; O how that glittering taketh...
18. Chicago Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders; They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your Painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys. And they tell me […]...
19. A fuzzy fellow, without feet A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass! Sometime, upon a bough, From which he doth descend in plush Upon the Passer-by! All this in summer. But when winds alarm the Forest Folk, He taketh Damask Residence And struts […]...
20. Artist He gave a picture exhibition, Hiring a little empty shop. Above its window: FREE ADMISSION Cajoled the passers-by to stop; Just to admire – no need to purchase, Although his price might have been low: But no proud artist ever urges Potential buyers at his show. Of course he badly needed money, But more he […]...
21. Anonymous Drawing A delicate young Negro stands With the reins of a horse clutched loosely in his hands; So delicate, indeed, that we wonder if he can hold the spirited creature Beside him Until the master shall arrive to ride him. Already the animal’s nostrils widen with rage or fear. But if we imagine him snorting, about […]...
22. To A Young Beauty Dear fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest Soon topples down the hill. You may, that mirror for a school, Be passionate, not bountiful As common beauties may, Who were not born to keep in […]...
23. The Spider as an Artist The Spider as an Artist Has never been employed Though his surpassing Merit Is freely certified By every Broom and Bridget Throughout a Christian Land Neglected Son of Genius I take thee by the Hand...
24. 276. Song-Whistle o'er the lave o't FIRST when Maggie was my care, Heav’n, I thought, was in her air, Now we’re married-speir nae mair, But whistle o’er the lave o’t! Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Sweet and harmless as a child- Wiser men than me’s beguil’d; Whistle o’er the lave o’t! How we live, my Meg and me, How […]...
25. 273. Song-Tam Glen MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len’, To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fellow, In poortith I might mak a fen; What care I in riches to wallow, If I maunna marry Tam Glen! There’s […]...
26. Ariste Let ancient stories round the painter’s art, Who stole from many a maid his Venus’ charms, Till warm devotion fired each gazer’s heart And every bosom bounded with alarms. He culled the beauties of his native isle, From some the blush of beauty’s vermeil dyes, From some the lovely look, the winning smile, From some […]...
27. Dumb Gabriel whispered in mine ear His archangelic poesie. How can I write? I only hear The sobbing murmur of the sea. Raphael breathed and bade me pass His rapt evangel to mankind; I cannot even match, alas! The ululation of the wind. The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit On every poet’s holy head; No […]...
28. To Certain Poets Now is the rhymer’s honest trade A thing for scornful laughter made. The merchant’s sneer, the clerk’s disdain, These are the burden of our pain. Because of you did this befall, You brought this shame upon us all. You little poets mincing there With women’s hearts and women’s hair! How sick Dan Chaucer’s ghost must […]...
29. Mae Marsh, Motion Picture Actress I The arts are old, old as the stones From which man carved the sphinx austere. Deep are the days the old arts bring: Ten thousand years of yesteryear. II She is madonna in an art As wild and young as her sweet eyes: A frail dew flower from this hot lamp That is today’s […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Conjecturing a Climate Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns Adds poignancy to Winter The Shivering Fancy turns To a fictitious Country To palliate a Cold Not obviated of Degree Nor erased of Latitude...
32. The going from a world we know The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery And everything unknown, But will the secret compensate For climbing it alone?...
33. THE COLOSSUS (Goya, an old man in exile, looks at his self-portrait) A bull’s neck, still much needed, Deserving exile or the guillotine, ‘Because you are an artist we forgave you’, Thus his royal highness gave thanks, My fingers itching for brush and canvas, Floury cheeks and rouge, legs a donkey would be ashamed of, A wife […]...
34. Sonnet XVIII: To This Our World To the Celestial Numbers To this our world, to Learning, and to Heav’n, Three Nines there are, to every one a Nine, One number of the Earth, the other both divine; One woman now makes three odd numbers ev’n. Nine Orders first of Angels be in Heav’n, Nine Muses do with Learning still frequent: These […]...
35. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
36. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
37. Last Love The first flower of the spring is not so fair Or bright, as one the ripe midsummer brings. The first faint note the forest warbler sings Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare As when, full master of his art, the air Drowns in the liquid sea of song he flings Like silver […]...
38. 24. Song-No Churchman am I NO churchman am I for to rail and to write, No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight, No sly man of business contriving a snare, For a big-belly’d bottle’s the whole of my care. The peer I don’t envy, I give him his bow; I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low; […]...
39. Bilbea BILBEA, I was in Babylon on Saturday night. I saw nothing of you anywhere. I was at the old place and the other girls were there, but no Bilbea. Have you gone to another house? or city? Why don’t you write? I was sorry. I walked home half-sick. Tell me how it goes. Send me […]...
40. Simplex Munditiis STILL to be neat, still to be drest, As you were going to a feast; Still to be powder’d, still perfumed: Lady, it is to be presumed, Though art’s hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face That makes simplicity a grace; […]...