At play

Related poetry:

1. Go, songs, for ended is our brief, sweet play Go, songs, for ended is our brief, sweet play; Go, children of swift joy and tardy sorrow: And some are sung, and that was yesterday, And some are unsung, and that may be tomorrow. Go forth; and if it be o’er stony way, Old joy can lend what newer grief must borrow: And it was […]...
2. Come and Play in the Garden Little sister, come away, And let us in the garden play, For it is a pleasant day. On the grass-plat let us sit, Or, if you please, we’ll play a bit, And run about all over it. But the fruit we will not pick, For that would be a naughty trick, And very likely make […]...
3. They All Want to Play Hamlet THEY all want to play Hamlet. They have not exactly seen their fathers killed Nor their mothers in a frame-up to kill, Nor an Ophelia dying with a dust gagging the heart, Not exactly the spinning circles of singing golden spiders, Not exactly this have they got at nor the meaning of flowers-O flowers, flowers […]...
4. Sweet Briars of the Stairways We are happy all the time Even when we fight: Sweet briars of the stairways, Gay fairies of the grime; We, who are playing to-night. “Our feet are in the gutters, Our eyes are sore with dust, But still our eyes are bright. The wide street roars and mutters – We know it works because […]...
5. Time to play It is a pristine page, clean on the blue screen Where I compose, I don’t expect it to stay that way As words glow from blunt, abused fingers, as insistent Sounds in my head translate into sentence structures, As lips articulate the rhythms and the sounds of the Jumbled lexis as swiftly as I can […]...
6. The stork Last night the Stork came stalking, And, Stork, beneath your wing Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber, The tiniest little thing! From Babyland, out yonder Beside a silver sea, You brought a priceless treasure As gift to mine and me! Last night my dear one listened – And, wife, you knew the cry – The dear […]...
7. We do not play on Graves We do not play on Graves Because there isn’t Room Besides it isn’t even it slants And People come And put a Flower on it And hang their faces so We’re fearing that their Hearts will drop And crush our pretty play And so we move as far As Enemies away Just looking round to […]...
8. The Play I am the only actor. It is difficult for one woman To act out a whole play. The play is my life, My solo act. My running after the hands And never catching up. (The hands are out of sight – That is, offstage.) All I am doing onstage is running, Running to keep up, […]...
9. Two Songs From A Play I I saw a staring virgin stand Where holy Dionysus died, And tear the heart out of his side. And lay the heart upon her hand And bear that beating heart away; Of Magnus Annus at the spring, As though God’s death were but a play. Another Troy must rise and set, Another lineage feed […]...
10. She lay as if at play She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away Intending to return But not so soon Her merry Arms, half dropt As if for lull of sport An instant had forgot The Trick to start Her dancing Eyes ajar As if their Owner were Still sparkling through For fun at you Her Morning […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. 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...
14. She died at play She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn Upon a Couch of flowers. Her ghost strolled softly o’er the hill Yesterday, and Today, Her vestments as the silver fleece Her countenance as spray....
15. The Bird did prance the Bee did play The Bird did prance the Bee did play The Sun ran miles away So blind with joy he could not choose Between his Holiday The morn was up the meadows out The Fences all but ran, Republic of Delight, I thought Where each is Citizen From Heavy laden Lands to thee Were seas to cross […]...
16. Modern Love XIII: I Play for Seasons, Not Eternities ‘I play for Seasons; not Eternities!’ Says Nature, laughing on her way. ‘So must All those whose stake is nothing more than dust!’ And lo, she wins, and of her harmonies She is full sure! Upon her dying rose, She drops a look of fondness, and goes by, Scarce any retrospection in her eye; For […]...
17. My Vision Wherever my feet may wander Wherever I chance to be, There comes, with the coming of even’ time A vision sweet to me. I see my mother sitting In the old familiar place, And she rocks to the tune her needles sing, And thinks of an absent face. I can hear the roar of the […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. It is easy to work when the soul is at play It is easy to work when the soul is at play But when the soul is in pain The hearing him put his playthings up Makes work difficult then It is simple, to ache in the Bone, or the Rind But Gimlets among the nerve Mangle daintier terribler Like a Panter in the Glove...
20. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
21. I play at Riches to appease I play at Riches to appease The Clamoring for Gold It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold With Want, and Opportunity I could have done a Sin And been Myself that easy Thing An independent Man But often as my lot displays Too hungry to be borne I deem Myself what […]...
22. Love Song My own dear love, he is strong and bold And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, And his eyes are lit with laughter. He is jubilant as a flag unfurled Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him. My own dear love, he is all my world, […]...
23. Life What is our life? A play of passion, Our mirth the music of division, Our mother’s wombs the tiring-houses be, Where we are dressed for this short comedy. Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is, That sits and marks still who doth act amiss. Our graves that hide us from the setting sun Are like drawn […]...
24. Let Us play Yesterday Let Us play Yesterday I the Girl at school You and Eternity the Untold Tale Easing my famine At my Lexicon Logarithm had I for Drink ‘Twas a dry Wine Somewhat different must be Dreams tint the Sleep Cunning Reds of Morning Make the Blind leap Still at the Egg-life Chafing the Shell When you […]...
25. Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st, Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, […]...
26. Holy Sonnet VI: This Is My Play's Last Scene, Here Heavens Appoint This is my play’s last scene, here heavens appoint My pilgrimage’s last mile; and my race Idly, yet quickly run, hath this last pace, My span’s last inch, my minute’s latest point, And gluttonous death, will instantly unjoint My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space; But my ever-waking part shall see that […]...
27. At That Hour At that hour when all things have repose, O lonely watcher of the skies, Do you hear the night wind and the sighs Of harps playing unto Love to unclose The pale gates of sunrise? When all things repose, do you alone Awake to hear the sweet harps play To Love before him on his […]...
28. While Summer Suns O’er the Gay Prospect Play’d While summer suns o’er the gay prospect play’d, Through Surrey’s verdant scenes, where Epsom spread ‘Mid intermingling elms her flowery meads, And Hascombe’s hill, in towering groves array’d, Rear’d its romantic steep, with mind serene, I journey’d blithe. Full pensive I return’d; For now my breast with hopeless passion burn’d, Wet with hoar mists appear’d […]...
29. Pan liveth They told me once that Pan was dead, And so, in sooth, I thought him; For vainly where the streamlets led Through flowery meads I sought him Nor in his dewy pasture bed Nor in the grove I caught him. “Tell me,” ’twas so my clamor ran “Tell me, oh, where is Pan?” But, once, […]...
30. The humming top The top it hummeth a sweet, sweet song To my dear little boy at play – Merrily singeth all day long, As it spinneth and spinneth away. And my dear little boy He laugheth with joy When he heareth the monotone Of that busy thing That loveth to sing The song that is all its […]...
31. The Difference When we were together, heart of my heart, on that unforgotten quest, With your tender arm about me thrown and your head upon my breast, There came a grief that was bitter and deep and straitly dwell with me, And I shunned it not, so sweet it was to suffer and be with thee. And […]...
32. In The Firelight The fire upon the hearth is low, And there is stillness everywhere, While like winged spirits, here and there, The firelight shadows fluttering go. And as the shadows round me creep, A childish treble breaks the gloom, And softly from a further room Comes, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” And somehow, with that […]...
33. To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I long have called you- You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death […]...
34. Work and Play The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer, A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage, A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air. But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust In shimmering exhaust Searching to slake Its fever in ocean Will play and be idle or else it will bust. The swallow […]...
35. THE CONVERT As at sunset I was straying Silently the wood along, Damon on his flute was playing, And the rocks gave back the song, So la, Ia! &c. Softly tow’rds him then he drew me; Sweet each kiss he gave me then! And I said, “Play once more to me!” And he kindly play’d again, So […]...
36. Dulcis Memoria Long, long ago I heard a little song, (Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday?) So lowly, slowly wound the tune along, That far into my heart it found the way: A melody consoling and endearing; And still, in silent hours, I’m often hearing The small, sweet song that does not die away. Long, long […]...
37. Firelight Playing in the fire and twilight together, My little son and I, Suddenly woefully I stoop to catch him. “Try, mother, try!” Old Nurse Silence lifts a silent finger: “Hush! cease your play!” What happened? What in that tiny moment Flew away?...
38. To A Young Girl My dear, my dear, I know More than another What makes your heart beat so; Not even your own mother Can know it as I know, Who broke my heart for her When the wild thought, That she denies And has forgot, Set all her blood astir And glittered in her eyes....
39. Shiela When I played my penny whistle on the braes above Lochgyle The heather bloomed about us, and we heard the peewit call; As you bent above your knitting something fey was in your smile, And fine and soft and slow the rain made silver on your shawl. Your cheeks were pink like painted cheeks, your […]...
40. Baby's Way If baby only wanted to, he could fly up to heaven this moment. It is not for nothing that he does not leave us. He loves to rest his head on mother’s bosom, and cannot ever Bear to lose sight of her. Baby know all manner of wise words, though few on earth can Understand […]...