The Province of the Saved

Related poetry:

1. Just lost, when I was saved! Just lost, when I was saved! Just felt the world go by! Just girt me for the onset with Eternity, When breath blew back, And on the other side I heard recede the disappointed tide! Therefore, as One returned, I feel Odd secrets of the line to tell! Some Sailor, skirting foreign shores Some pale […]...
2. Robbed by Death but that was easy Robbed by Death but that was easy To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing Robbed by Liberty For Her Jugular Defences This, too, I endured Hint of Glory it afforded For the Brave Beloved Fraud of Distance Fraud of Danger, Fraud of Death to bear It is Bounty to Suspense’s Vague Calamity […]...
3. I should have been too glad, I see I should have been too glad, I see Too lifted for the scant degree Of Life’s penurious Round My little Circuit would have shamed This new Circumference have blamed The homelier time behind. I should have been too saved I see Too rescued Fear too dim to me That I could spell the Prayer I […]...
4. We play at Paste We play at Paste Till qualified, for Pearl Then, drop the Paste And deem ourself a fool The Shapes though were similar And our new Hands Learned Gem-Tactics Practicing Sands...
5. Saved by Music At on time, in America, many years ago, Large gray wolves wont to wander to and fro; And from the farm yards they carried pigs and calves away, Which they devoured ravenously, without dismay. But, as the story goes, there was a negro fiddler called old Dick, Who was invited by a wedding party to […]...
6. Psalm 116 part 1 Recovery from sickness. I love the Lord; he heard my cries, And pitied every groan; Long as I live, when troubles rise, I’ll hasten to his throne. I love the Lord; he bowed his ear, And chased my griefs away; O let my heart no more despair, While I have breath to pray! My flesh […]...
7. 'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy! ‘Tis so much joy! ‘Tis so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I, Have ventured all upon a throw! Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so This side the Victory! Life is but Life! And Death, but Death! Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath! And if indeed I […]...
8. Courage It is in the small things we see it. The child’s first step, As awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, Wallowing up the sidewalk. The first spanking when your heart Went on a journey all alone. When they called you crybaby Or poor or fatty or crazy And made you […]...
9. It was a quiet seeming Day It was a quiet seeming Day There was no harm in earth or sky Till with the closing sun There strayed an accidental Red A Strolling Hue, one would have said To westward of the Town But when the Earth began to jar And Houses vanished with a roar And Human Nature hid We comprehended […]...
10. Straw in the Street Straw in the street where I pass to-day Dulls the sound of the wheels and feet. ‘Tis for a failing life they lay Straw in the street. Here, where the pulses of London beat, Someone strives with the Presence grey; Ah, is it victory or defeat? The hurrying people go their way, Pause and jostle […]...
11. My Portion is Defeat today My Portion is Defeat today A paler luck than Victory Less Paeans fewer Bells The Drums don’t follow Me with tunes Defeat a somewhat slower means More Arduous than Balls ‘Tis populous with Bone and stain And Men too straight to stoop again, And Piles of solid Moan And Chips of Blank in Boyish Eyes […]...
12. The Turning Unknown faces in the street And winter coming on. I Stand in the last moments of The city, no more a child, Only a man, one who has Looked upon his own nakedness Without shame, and in defeat Has seen nothing to bless. Touched once, like a plum, I turned Rotten in the meat, or […]...
13. Of Tribulation, these are They Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank Of Victors designate All these did conquer But the ones who overcame most times Wear nothing commoner than Snow No Ornament, but Palms Surrender is a sort unknown On this superior soil Defeat an outgrown Anguish Remembered, as the Mile […]...
14. I prayed, at first, a little Girl I prayed, at first, a little Girl, Because they told me to But stopped, when qualified to guess How prayer would feel to me If I believed God looked around, Each time my Childish eye Fixed full, and steady, on his own In Childish honesty And told him what I’d like, today, And parts of […]...
15. Somehow myself survived the Night Somehow myself survived the Night And entered with the Day That it be saved the Saved suffice Without the Formula. Henceforth I take my living place As one commuted led A Candidate for Morning Chance But dated with the Dead....
16. Aperotos Eros Strong as death, and cruel as the grave, Clothed with cloud and tempest’s blackening breath, Known of death’s dread self, whom none outbrave, Strong as death, Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath, Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave, Burns above a world that groans beneath. Hath not pity power on thee to save, Love? […]...
17. More than the Grave is closed to me More than the Grave is closed to me The Grave and that Eternity To which the Grave adheres I cling to nowhere till I fall The Crash of nothing, yet of all How similar appears...
18. To My Wife – With A Copy Of My Poems I can write no stately proem As a prelude to my lay; From a poet to a poem I would dare to say. For if of these fallen petals One to you seem fair, Love will waft it till it settles On your hair. And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It […]...
19. Lay His Sword By His Side Lay his sword by his side it hath served him too well Not to rest near his pillow below; To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell, Its point was still turn’d to a flying foe. Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death, Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave […]...
20. Death warrants are supposed to be Death warrants are supposed to be An enginery of equity A merciful mistake A pencil in an Idol’s Hand A Devotee has oft consigned To Crucifix or Block...
21. 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 […]...
22. It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation But large serene Burned on until through Dissolution It failed from Men I could not deem these Planetary forces Annulled But suffered an Exchange of Territory Or World...
23. The New Poetry Handbook 1 If a man understands a poem, he shall have troubles. 2 If a man lives with a poem, he shall die lonely. 3 If a man lives with two poems, he shall be unfaithful to one. 4 If a man conceives of a poem, he shall have one less child. 5 If a man […]...
24. Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth The weather was fine. They took away his teeth, White & helpful; bothered his backhand; Halved his green hair. They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’ (they called in iron voices) ‘understand, Is nothing. So there.’ The weather was very fine. They lifted off His covers till he showed, and cringed & pled To […]...
25. I cannot live with You I cannot live with You It would be Life And Life is over there Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to Putting up Our Life His Porcelain Like a Cup Discarded of the Housewife Quaint or Broke A newer Sevres pleases Old Ones crack I could not die with You For One must […]...
26. On The Death Of Anne Bronte There’s little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I’ve lived the parting hour to see Of one I would have died to save. Calmly to watch the failing breath, Wishing each sigh might be the last; Longing to see the shade of death O’er those beloved features cast; The cloud, […]...
27. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
28. The Color of the Grave is Green The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite asleep To stop and tell them where it is But just a Daisy deep The Color of the Grave is white […]...
29. Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain Thou leaden brain, which censur’st what I write, And say’st my lines be dull and do not move, I marvel not thou feel’st not my delight, Which never felt’st my fiery touch of love. But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv’d, Whose stomach unto gall hath turn’d thy food, Whose senses, like poor […]...
30. Twilight From vales of dawn hath Day pursued the Night Who mocking fled, swift-sandalled, to the west, Nor ever lingered in her wayward flight With dusk-eyed glance to recompense his quest, But over crocus hills and meadows gray Sped fleetly on her way. Now when the Day, shorn of his failing strength, Hath fallen spent before […]...
31. Courage In the shadow of the grave I will be brave; I’ll smile, I know I will E’er I be still; Because I will not smile So long a while. But I’ll be sad, I fear, And shed a tear, For those I love and leave My loss to grieve: ‘Tis just their grief I’ll grieve, […]...
32. Despair's advantage is achieved Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering Despair To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore The Worthiness of Suffering like The Worthiness of Death Is ascertained by tasting As can no other Mouth Of Savors make us conscious As did ourselves partake Affliction feels impalpable Until Ourselves are struck...
33. I cross till I am weary I cross till I am weary A Mountain in my mind More Mountains then a Sea More Seas And then A Desert find And My Horizon blocks With steady drifting Grains Of unconjectured quantity As Asiatic Rains Nor this defeat my Pace It hinder from the West But as an Enemy’s Salute One hurrying to […]...
34. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
35. Sonnet 107: Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world, dreaming on things to come Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom. The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured, And the sad augurs mock their own presage; Incertainties now crown themselves assured, And peace […]...
36. April No one’s despair is like my despair You have no place in this garden Thinking such things, producing The tiresome outward signs; the man Pointedly weeding an entire forest, The woman limping, refusing to change clothes Or wash her hair. Do you suppose I care If you speak to one another? But I mean you […]...
37. Sonnet CXLVIII O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be […]...
38. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
39. In the Street Where the needle-woman toils Through the night with hand and brain, Till the sickly daylight shudders like a spectre at the pain – Till her eyes seem to crawl, And her brain seems to creep – And her limbs are all a-tremble for the want of rest and sleep! It is there the fire-brand blazes […]...
40. 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 […]...