To Whom It May Concern

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1. The Daughter Of The Year Nature, when she made thee, dear, Begged the treasures of the year. For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her skies; Autumn spun her gold and red In a mass of silken thread- Gold and red and sunlight rare For the […]...
2. Seasons In the willow-meads of Tasarinan I walked in the Spring. Ah! The sight and smell of the Spring in Nantasarion! And I said that was good. I wandered in Summer in the elm-woods of Ossiriand. Ah! The light and the music in the Summer by the Seven Rivers of Ossir! And I thought that was […]...
3. A spring poem from bion One asketh: “Tell me, Myrson, tell me true: What’s the season pleaseth you? Is it summer suits you best, When from harvest toil we rest? Is it autumn with its glory Of all surfeited desires? Is it winter, when with story And with song we hug our fires? Or is spring most fair to you […]...
4. The Winter's Spring The winter comes; I walk alone, I want no bird to sing; To those who keep their hearts their own The winter is the spring. No flowers to please-no bees to hum- The coming spring’s already come. I never want the Christmas rose To come before its time; The seasons, each as God bestows, Are […]...
5. 341. Song-My Bonie Bell THE SMILING Spring comes in rejoicing, And surly Winter grimly flies; Now crystal clear are the falling waters, And bonie blue are the sunny skies. Fresh o’er the mountains breaks forth the morning, The ev’ning gilds the ocean’s swell; All creatures joy in the sun’s returning, And I rejoice in my bonie Bell. The flowery […]...
6. In The Green And Gallant Spring IN the green and gallant Spring, Love and the lyre I thought to sing, And kisses sweet to give and take By the flowery hawthorn brake. Now is russet Autumn here, Death and the grave and winter drear, And I must ponder here aloof While the rain is on the roof....
7. Wonder is not precisely Knowing Wonder is not precisely Knowing And not precisely Knowing not A beautiful but bleak condition He has not lived who has not felt Suspense is his maturer Sister Whether Adult Delight is Pain Or of itself a new misgiving This is the Gnat that mangles men...
8. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
9. Erin, Oh Erin Like the bright lamp, that shone in Kildare’s holy fane, And burn’d through long ages of darkness and storm, Is the heart that sorrows have frown’d on in vain, Whose spirit outlives them, unfading and warm. Erin, oh Erin, thus bright through the tears Of a long night of bondage, thy spirit appears. The nations […]...
10. The Wheel Through winter-time we call on spring, And through the spring on summer call, And when abounding hedges ring Declare that winter’s best of all; And after that there s nothing good Because the spring-time has not come – Nor know that what disturbs our blood Is but its longing for the tomb....
11. Imitated From The Japanese A most astonishing thing Seventy years have I lived; (Hurrah for the flowers of Spring, For Spring is here again.) Seventy years have I lived No ragged beggar-man, Seventy years have I lived, Seventy years man and boy, And never have I danced for joy....
12. Why FOR a name unknown, Whose fame unblown Sleeps in the hills For ever and aye; For her who hears The stir of the years Go by on the wind By night and day; And heeds no thing Of the needs of spring, Of autumn’s wonder Or winter’s chill; For one who sees The great sun […]...
13. 418. Song-O were my love you lilac fair O WERE my love yon Lilac fair, Wi’ purple blossoms to the Spring, And I, a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing! How I wad mourn when it was torn By Autumn wild, and Winter rude! But I wad sing on wanton wing, When youthfu’ May its bloom renew’d. O gin […]...
14. From "THE TALK OF FLOWERS&quot I do not know, whether the sun Accomplished it, The rain or wind – But I was missing so The whiteness and the snow. I listened to the rustling Of spring rain, Washing the reddish buds Of chestnut-trees, – And a tiny spring ran down Into the valley from the hill – And I was […]...
15. The Human Seasons Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is […]...
16. 438. Impromptu on Mrs. Riddell's Birthday OLD Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night’s horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English hanging, drowning. “Now Jove, for once […]...
17. Sweethearts of the Year Sweetheart Spring Our Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, Her gliding hands were fire, Her lilac breath upon our cheeks Consumed us with desire. By her our God began to build, Began to sow and till. He laid foundations in our loves For every good and ill. We asked Him not for blessing, We asked Him not […]...
18. Is there any reward? Is there any reward? I’m beginning to doubt it. I am broken and bored, Is there any reward Reassure me, Good Lord, And inform me about it. Is there any reward? I’m beginning to doubt it....
19. Four Haiku Spring: A hill without a name Veiled in morning mist. The beginning of autumn: Sea and emerald paddy Both the same green. The winds of autumn Blow: yet still green The chestnut husks. A flash of lightning: Into the gloom Goes the heron’s cry....
20. The image, as in a Hexagram The image, as in a Hexagram: The hermit locks his door against the blizzard. He keeps the cabin warm. All winter long he sorts out all he has. What was well started shall be finished. What was not, should be thrown away. In spring he emerges with one garment And a single book. The cabin […]...
21. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
22. The Life of Love XVI Spring Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls, For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys. Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw Inspiration high above the cool green plains. Dawn of […]...
23. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
24. The Sign-Post The dim sea glints chill. The white sun is shy, And the skeleton weeds and the never-dry, Rough, long grasses keep white with frost At the hill-top by the finger-post; The smoke of the traveller’s-joy is puffed Over hawthorn berry and hazel tuft. I read the sign. Which way shall I go? A voice says: […]...
25. The Belltower the weighing is done in autumn And the sifting What is to be threshed Is threshed in autumn What is to be gathered is taken The wind does not die in autumn The moon Shifts endlessly thru flying clouds In autumn the sea is high & a golden light plays everywhere Making it harder To […]...
26. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
27. Not What Was Meant When the Academy of Arts demanded freedom Of artistic expression from narrow-minded bureaucrats There was a howl and a clamour in its immediate vicinity But roaring above everything Came a deafening thunder of applause From beyond the Sector boundary. Freedom! it roared. Freedom for the artists! Freedom all round! Freedom for all! Freedom for the […]...
28. Rhyme For My Tomb Here lyeth one Who loved the sun; Who lived with zest, Whose work was done, Reward, dear Lord, Thy weary son: May he be blest With peace and rest, Nor wake again, Amen....
29. To Be In Love To be in love Is to touch with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are well. You look at things Through his eyes. A cardinal is red. A sky is blue. Suddenly you know he knows too. He is not there but You know you are tasting together The winter, or a light […]...
30. ANACREON'S GRAVE HERE where the roses blossom, where vines round the laurels are Twining, Where the turtle-dove calls, where the blithe cricket is heard, Say, whose grave can this be, with life by all the Immortals Beauteously planted and deck’d? Here doth Anacreon sleep Spring and summer and autumn rejoiced the thrice-happy minstrel, And from the winter […]...
31. A Lovers' Quarrel We two were lovers, the Sea and I; We plighted our troth ‘neath a summer sky. And all through the riotous ardent weather We dreamed, and loved, and rejoiced together. * * * At times my lover would rage and storm. I said: ‘No matter, his heart is warm.’ Whatever his humour, I loved his […]...
32. Purity Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing That thy living touch is upon all my limbs. I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing That thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind. I shall ever try […]...
33. Love's Reality I walk, I trust, with open eyes; I’ve travelled half my worldly course; And in the way behind me lies Much vanity and some remorse; I’ve lived to feel how pride may part Spirits, tho’ matched like hand and glove; I’ve blushed for love’s abode, the heart; But have not disbelieved in love; Nor unto […]...
34. Snowdrops Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know What despair is; then Winter should have meaning for you. I did not expect to survive, Earth suppressing me. I didn’t expect To waken again, to feel In damp earth my body Able to respond again, remembering After so long how to open again […]...
35. I have a Bird in spring I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing The spring decoys. And as the summer nears And as the Rose appears, Robin is gone. Yet do I not repine Knowing that Bird of mine Though flown Learneth beyond the sea Melody new for me And will return. Fast is a safer hand […]...
36. A Sad State Of Freedom You waste the attention of your eyes, The glittering labour of your hands, And knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves Of which you’ll taste not a morsel; You are free to slave for others You are free to make the rich richer. The moment you’re born They plant around you Mills that grind […]...
37. My Indian Summer Here in the Autumn of my days My life is mellowed in a haze. Unpleasant sights are none to clear, Discordant sounds I hardly hear. Infirmities like buffers soft Sustain me tranquilly aloft. I’m deaf to duffers, blind to bores, Peace seems to percolate my pores. I fold my hands, keep quiet mind, In dogs […]...
38. These Little Songs These little Songs, Found here and there, Floating in air By forest and lea, Or hill-side heather, In houses and throngs, Or down by the sea – Have come together, How, I can’t tell: But I know full well No witty goose-wing On an inkstand begot ’em; Remember each place And moment of grace, In […]...
39. Robin Redbreast Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! For Summer’s nearly done; The garden smiling faintly, Cool breezes in the sun; Our Thrushes now are silent, Our Swallows flown away, But Robin’s here, in coat of brown, With ruddy breast-knot gay. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! Robin singing sweetly In the falling of the year. Bright yellow, red, […]...
40. Desespoir The seasons send their ruin as they go, For in the spring the narciss shows its head Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red, And in the autumn purple violets blow, And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow; Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again And this grey land grow green with […]...