They called me to the Window, for

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1. It was once called it comes like a convict Squeezing through bars And is gone before The promptest siren It suddenly turns In the ear or rides The eye of a thought Before dissolving I have it in a faint Taste or shudder An ache like a spring High in the mountains It was once called love And now […]...
2. I had some things that I called mine I had some things that I called mine And God, that he called his, Till, recently a rival Claim Disturbed these amities. The property, my garden, Which having sown with care, He claims the pretty acre, And sends a Bailiff there. The station of the parties Forbids publicity, But Justice is sublimer Than arms, or […]...
3. Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry Let not my love be called idolatry, Nor my belovèd as an idol show, Since all alike my songs and praises be To one, of one, still such, and ever so. Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind, Still constant in a wondrous excellence; Therefore my verse to constancy confined, One thing expressing, leaves out […]...
4. The Notice that is called the Spring The Notice that is called the Spring Is but a month from here Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep The Birds enamor Care Our salary the longest Day Is nothing but a Bier....
5. Nocturne of the Wharves All night they whine upon their ropes and boom Against the dock with helpless prows: These little ships that are too worn for sailing Front the wharf but do not rest at all. Tugging at the dim gray wharf they think No doubt of China and of bright Bombay, And they remember islands of the […]...
6. A catchy phrase It was called Farm Fantastic, a catchy phrase, And potentially a day’s wasted sweat. Even after the event I can’t say it wasn’t, And I’m kind of glad we went, for better Or worse, to see if it was. Actually, I went Because my Better had prefaced a day away From the farm, her invites […]...
7. Those cattle smaller than a Bee Those cattle smaller than a Bee That herd upon the eye Whose tillage is the passing Crumb Those Cattle are the Fly Of Barns for Winter blameless Extemporaneous stalls They found to our objection On eligible walls Reserving the presumption To suddenly descend And gallop on the Furniture Or odiouser offend Of their peculiar calling […]...
8. Window I looked out the window at dawn and saw a young apple tree Translucent in brightness. And when I looked out at dawn once again, an apple tree laden with Fruit stood there. Many years had probably gone by but I remember nothing of what Happened in my sleep....
9. Longevity Said Brown: ‘I can’t afford to die For I have bought annuity, And every day of living I Have money coming in to me: While others toil to make their bread I make mine by not being dead.’ Said Jones: ‘I can’t afford to die, For I have books and books to write. I do […]...
10. Called Into Play Fall fell: so that’s it for the leaf poetry: Some flurries have whitened the edges of roads And lawns: time for that, the snow stuff: & Turkeys and old St. Nick: where am I going to Find something to write about I haven’t already Written away: I will have to stop short, look Down, look […]...
11. Old Song Re-Sung I saw three ships a-sailing, A-sailing on the sea, The first her masts were silver, Her hull was ivory. The snows came drifting softly, And lined her white as wool; Oh, Jesus, Son of Mary, Thy Cradle beautiful! I saw three ships a-sailing, The next was red as blood, Her decks shone like a ruby, […]...
12. The Flour Bin By Lawson’s Hill, near Mudgee, On old Eurunderee – The place they called “New Pipeclay”, Where the diggers used to be – On a dreary old selection, Where times were dry and thin, In a slab and shingle kitchen There stood a flour bin. ‘Twas “ploorer” with the cattle, ‘Twas rust and smut in wheat, […]...
13. The White Ships and the Red (For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside a sunless beach. Their mighty masts and funnels Are white as driven snow, And with a pallid radiance Their ghostly bulwarks glow. Here is a Spanish galleon That once with gold was gay, Here is […]...
14. The Opal Dream Cave In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal […]...
15. Bathed in War's Perfume BATHED in war’s perfume-delicate flag! (Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,) O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships they arm with joy! O to see you leap and beckon from […]...
16. The Poplar Field The poplars are felled, farewell to the shade And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade: The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves, Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives. Twelve years have elapsed since I first took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew, And […]...
17. A Song at Cock-Crow The first time that Peter denied his Lord He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord, But followed far off to see what they would do, Till the cock crew till the cock crew After Gethsemane, till the cock crew! The first time that Peter denied his Lord ‘Twas only a maid in […]...
18. Many Are Called The Lord Apollo, who has never died, Still holds alone his immemorial reign, Supreme in an impregnable domain That with his magic he has fortified; And though melodious multitudes have tried In ecstasy, in anguish, and in vain, With invocation sacred and profane To lure him, even the loudest are outside. Only at unconjectured intervals, […]...
19. The Dream Called Life From the Spanish of Pedro Calderon de la Barca A dream it was in which I found myself. And you that hail me now, then hailed me king, In a brave palace that was all my own, Within, and all without it, mine; until, Drunk with excess of majesty and pride, Methought I towered so […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Nancy Knapp Well, don’t you see this was the way of it: We bought the farm with what he inherited, And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning His fathers mind against the rest of them. And we never had any peace with our treasure. The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed. And lightning […]...
22. What Has Happened? The industrialist is having his aeroplane serviced. The priest is wondering what he said in his sermon eight weeks ago About tithes. The generals are putting on civvies and looking like bank clerks. Public officials are getting friendly. The policeman points out the way to the man in the cloth cap. The landlord comes to […]...
23. Tцrnfallet There is a meadow in Sweden Where I lie smitten, Eyes stained with clouds’ White ins and outs. And about that meadow Roams my widow Plaiting a clover Wreath for her lover. I took her in marriage In a granite parish. The snow lent her whiteness, A pine was a witness. She’d swim in the […]...
24. By my Window have I for Scenery By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea with a Stem If the Bird and the Farmer deem it a “Pine” The Opinion will serve for them It has no Port, nor a “Line” but the Jays That split their route to the Sky Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula May be easier […]...
25. I reckon when I count it all I reckon when I count it all First Poets Then the Sun Then Summer Then the Heaven of God And then the List is done But, looking back the First so seems To Comprehend the Whole The Others look a needless Show So I write Poets All Their Summer lasts a Solid Year They can […]...
26. The North Ship Legend I saw three ships go sailing by, Over the sea, the lifting sea, And the wind rose in the morning sky, And one was rigged for a long journey. The first ship turned towards the west, Over the sea, the running sea, And by the wind was all possessed And carried to a rich […]...
27. Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world’s a song; “She’s far,” it sings me, “but fair,” it rings me, “Quiet,” it laughs, “and strong!” Oh! spite of the miles and years between us, Spite of your chosen part, I do remember; and I go With laughter in my heart. So […]...
28. The Ships that Won't Go Down We hear a great commotion ‘Bout the ship that comes to grief, That founders in mid-ocean, Or is driven on a reef; Because it’s cheap and brittle A score of sinners drown. But we hear but mighty little Of the ships that won’t go down. Here’s honour to the builders – The builders of the […]...
29. Lover's Gifts XXII: I Shall Gladly Suffer I shall gladly suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house, If only in some happy future I am born a herd-boy in the Brinda Forest. The herd-boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan Tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to Splash and plunge in the […]...
30. The Revenge – A Ballad of the Fleet At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a fluttered bird, came flying from far away: ‘Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted’ Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: ”Fore God I am no coward; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, And […]...
31. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
32. Alien DARK glowed the vales of amethyst Beneath an opal shroud: The moon bud opened through the mist Its white-fire leaves of cloud. Through rapt at gaze with eyes of light Looked forth the seraph seers, The vast and wandering dream of night Rolled on above our tears....
33. Evening Waterfall WHAT was the name you called me?- And why did you go so soon? The crows lift their caw on the wind, And the wind changed and was lonely. The warblers cry their sleepy-songs Across the valley gloaming, Across the cattle-horns of early stars. Feathers and people in the crotch of a treetop Throw an […]...
34. The Manor Farm THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills Ran and sparkled down each side of the road Under the catkins wagging in the hedge. But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun; Nor did I value that thin gliding beam More than a pretty February thing Till I came down to the […]...
35. The Silent Shepherds What’s the best life for a man? Never to have been born, sings the choros, and the next best Is to die young. I saw the Sybil at Cumae Hung in her cage over the public street What do you want, Sybil? I want to die. Apothanein Thelo. Apothanein Thelo. Apothanein Thelo. You have got […]...
36. The Gundaroo Bullock Oh, there’s some that breeds the Devon that’s as solid as a stone, And there’s some that breeds the brindle which they call the “Goulburn Roan”; But amongst the breeds of cattle there are very, very few Like the hairy-whiskered bullock that they breed at Gundaroo. Far away by Grabben Gullen, where the Murrumbidgee flows, […]...
37. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
38. I had no Cause to be awake I had no Cause to be awake My Best was gone to sleep And Morn a new politeness took And failed to wake them up But called the others clear And passed their Curtains by Sweet Morning when I oversleep Knock Recollect to Me I looked at Sunrise Once And then I looked at Them […]...
39. Tilly He travels after a winter sun, Urging the cattle along a cold red road, Calling to them, a voice they know, He drives his beasts above Cabra. The voice tells them home is warm. They moo and make brute music with their hoofs. He drives them with a flowering branch before him, Smoke pluming their […]...
40. 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...