St Michael's Chapel

Related poetry:

1. The Chapel in Lyonesse SIR OZANA. All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday, Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man came a-near. Naked to the waist was I, And deep within my breast did lie, Though no man any blood could spy, The truncheon of a spear. No meat did ever pass my lips Those […]...
2. The Sleeper At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And, softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, Steals drowsily and musically Into the universal valley. The rosemary nods upon the grave; The lily lolls upon the wave; […]...
3. Rugby Chapel Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither’d leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent; hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play! The lights come out in the street, In the school-room windows; but cold, Solemn, unlighted, austere, Through the gathering darkness, […]...
4. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON’S CHAPEL DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELD, COUNSELLOR AT LAW RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW, AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW; SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE, WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE. THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU’ST SEEN MORE FINE THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES’ ONCE, NOW THINE. […]...
5. To The Chapel Bell “Lo I, the man who erst the Muse did ask Her deepest notes to swell the Patriot’s meeds, Am now enforst a far unfitter task For cap and gown to leave my minstrel weeds,” For yon dull noise that tinkles on the air Bids me lay by the lyre and go to morning prayer. Oh […]...
6. Modern Love I: By This He Knew She Wept By this he knew she wept with waking eyes: That, at his hand’s light quiver by her head, The strange low sobs that shook their common bed Were called into her with a sharp surprise, And strangled mute, like little gaping snakes, Dreadfully venomous to him. She lay Stone-still, and the long darkness flowed away […]...
7. The Mountain Tomb Pour wine and dance if manhood still have pride, Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom; The cataract smokes upon the mountain side, Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb. Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet That there be no foot silent in the room Nor mouth from kissing, nor from […]...
8. 259. A New Psalm for the Chapel of Kilmarnock O SING a new song to the Lord, Make, all and every one, A joyful noise, even for the King His restoration. The sons of Belial in the land Did set their heads together; Come, let us sweep them off, said they, Like an o’erflowing river. They set their heads together, I say, They set […]...
9. I Saw a Chapel I saw a chapel all of gold That none did dare to enter in, And many weeping stood without, Weeping, mourning, worshipping. I saw a serpent rise between The white pillars of the door, And he forc’d and forc’d and forc’d, Down the golden hinges tore. And along the pavement sweet, Set with pearls and […]...
10. My Chapel In idle dream with pipe in hand I looked across the Square, And saw the little chapel stand In eloquent despair. A ruin of the War it was, A dreary, dingy mess: It worried me a lot because My hobby’s happiness. The shabby Priest said: ‘You are kind. Time leaves us on the lurch, And […]...
11. The Poets Of The Tomb The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead, ‘Tis time the people passed a law to knock ’em on the head, For ‘twould be lovely if their friends could grant the rest they crave Those bards of ‘tears’ and ‘vanished hopes’, those poets of the grave. They say that life’s […]...
12. Queen Elizabeth Speaks My hands were stained with blood, my heart was Proud and cold, My soul is black with shame. . . but I gave Shakespeare gold. So after aeons of flame, I may, by grace of God, Rise up to kiss the dust that Shakespeare’s feet have trod....
13. The Eve of Crecy Gold on her head, and gold on her feet, And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet, And a golden girdle round my sweet; Ah! qu’elle est belle La Marguerite. Margaret’s maids are fair to see, Freshly dress’d and pleasantly; Margaret’s hair falls down to her knee; Ah! qu’elle est belle La Marguerite. If […]...
14. Modern Love XXIX: Am I Failing Am I failing? For no longer can I cast A glory round about this head of gold. Glory she wears, but springing from the mould; Not like the consecration of the Past! Is my soul beggared? Something more than earth I cry for still: I cannot be at peace In having Love upon a’ mortal […]...
15. The Contrast Fat lady, in your four-wheeled chair, Dolled up to beat the band, At me you arrogantly stare With gold lorgnette in hand. Oh how you differ from the dame So shabby, gaunt and grey, With legs rheumatically lame, Who steers you on your way. Nay, jewelled lady, look not back Lest you should be disturbed […]...
16. Ballade De Marguerite (Normande) I am weary of lying within the chase When the knights are meeting in market-place. Nay, go not thou to the red-roofed town Lest the hoofs of the war-horse tread thee down. But I would not go where the Squires ride, I would only walk by my Lady’s side. Alack! and alack! thou art overbold, […]...
17. Vivien Her eyes under their lashes were blue pools Fringed round with lilies; her bright hair unfurled Clothed her as sunshine clothes the summer world. Her robes were gauzes gold and green and gules, All furry things flocked round her, from her hand Nibbling their foods and fawning at her feet. Two peacocks watched her where […]...
18. The Tournament Joust First. I. Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies, And the knights still hurried amain To the tournament under the ladies’ eyes, Where the jousters were Heart and Brain. II. Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart, A youth in crimson and gold. Flourished again: Brain stood apart, Steel-armored, dark and cold. III. Heart’s palfrey […]...
19. Fountainhead I did not delight in love so much As in a kiss like linnets’ wings, The flutterings of a pulse so soft The heart remembers, as it sings: To bathe there was its transport, brushed By marble lips, or porcelain,– One liquid kiss, one cool outburst From pale rosettes. What did it mean… To float […]...
20. Inscription 05 – For A Monument At Silbury-Hill This mound in some remote and dateless day Rear’d o’er a Chieftain of the Age of Hills, May here detain thee Traveller! from thy road Not idly lingering. In his narrow house Some Warrior sleeps below: his gallant deeds Haply at many a solemn festival The Bard has harp’d, but perish’d is the song Of […]...
21. Clifton Chapel This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts of youth, And heard the words that one by one The touch of Life has turn’d to truth. Here in a day that is not far, You too may speak with noble ghosts Of manhood and the vows of war You made before […]...
22. Chapel Deacon Who put that crease in your soul, Davies, ready this fine morning For the staid chapel, where the Book’s frown Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray And scheme at once, your eyes turning Skyward, while your swift mind weighs Your heifer’s chances in the next town’s Fair on Thursday? Are your heart’s coals […]...
23. O Beauty, Passing Beauty! O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet! How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs? I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes. Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold My arms about thee scarcely dare to speak. And nothing seems to […]...
24. Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget she wore it at her Heart Because she breathed against Was Treason twixt? Deny! Did Rose her Bee For Privilege of Play Or Wile of Butterfly Or Opportunity Her Lord away? The lady with the Amulet will face The Bee in Mausoleum laid Discard his Bride But longer […]...
25. Concord Hymn Sung at the Completion of the Concord Monument, April 19th, 1836 By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined […]...
26. I Wish I Was By That Dim Lake I wish I was by that dim Lake, Where sinful souls their farewell take Of this vain world, and half-way lie In death’s cold shadow, ere they die. There, there, far from thee, Deceitful world, my home should be; Where, come what might of gloom and pain, False hope should n’er deceive again. The lifeless […]...
27. THE CRUEL MAID AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I’ll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever; […]...
28. Lady Clare IT was the time when lilies blow, And clouds are highest up in air, Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe To give his cousin, Lady Clare. I trow they did not part in scorn – Lovers long-betroth’d were they: They too will wed the morrow morn: God’s blessing on the day! ‘He does not love […]...
29. Safe in their Alabaster Chambers Safe in their Alabaster Chambers Untouched my Morning And untouched by Noon Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection Rafter of satin, And Roof of stone. Light laughs the breeze In her Castle above them Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear, Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence Ah, what sagacity perished here!...
30. An Epitaph On A Child Of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel Weep with me, all you that read This little story; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death’s self is sorry. ‘Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature, As heaven and nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature. Years he numbered scarce thirteen When fates turned cruel, Yet three […]...
31. Near Avalon A ship with shields before the sun, Six maidens round the mast, A red-gold crown on every one, A green gown on the last. The fluttering green banners there Are wrought with ladies’ heads most fair, And a portraiture of Guenevere The middle of each sail doth bear. A ship with sails before the wind, […]...
32. Secret Music I keep such music in my brain No din this side of death can quell; Glory exulting over pain, And beauty, garlanded in hell. My dreaming spirit will not heed The roar of guns that would destroy My life that on the gloom can read Proud-surging melodies of joy. To the world’s end I went, […]...
33. Soledad (And I, I am no longer of that world) Naked, he lies in the blinded room Chainsmoking, cradled by drugs, by jazz As never by any lover’s cradling flesh. Miles Davis coolly blows for him: O pena negra, sensual Flamenco blues; The red clay foxfire voice of Lady Day (lady of the pure black magnolias) […]...
34. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love Than terrors of red flame and thundering. The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring: A bird at evening flying to its nest Tells me of One who had no place of […]...
35. A Lady red amid the Hill A Lady red amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps! The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms Sweep vale and hill and tree! Prithee, My pretty Housewives! Who may expected be? The Neighbors do not yet suspect! The Woods exchange a smile! Orchard, and Buttercup, and […]...
36. Cat's Dream How neatly a cat sleeps, Sleeps with its paws and its posture, Sleeps with its wicked claws, And with its unfeeling blood, Sleeps with ALL the rings a series Of burnt circles which have formed The odd geology of its sand-colored tail. I should like to sleep like a cat, With all the fur of […]...
37. All Hallows Even now this landscape is assembling. The hills darken. The oxen Sleep in their blue yoke, The fields having been Picked clean, the sheaves Bound evenly and piled at the roadside Among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises: This is the barrenness Of harvest or pestilence And the wife leaning out the window With her […]...
38. Stanzas I’ll not weep that thou art going to leave me, There’s nothing lovely here; And doubly will the dark world grieve me, While thy heart suffers there. I’ll not weep, because the summer’s glory Must always end in gloom; And, follow out the happiest story – It closes with a tomb! And I am weary […]...
39. THE MAIDEN SPEAKS How grave thou loookest, loved one! wherefore so? Thy marble image seems a type of thee; Like it, no sign of life thou giv’st to me; Compared with thee, the stone appears to glow. Behind his shield in ambush lurks the foe, The friend’s brow all-unruffled we should see. I seek thee, but thou seek’st […]...
40. City Visions I As the blind Milton’s memory of light, The deaf Beethoven’s phantasy of tone, Wroght joys for them surpassing all things known In our restricted sphere of sound and sight, So while the glaring streets of brick and stone Vix with heat, noise, and dust from morn till night, I will give rein to Fancy, […]...