The humming top

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1. Little-oh dear See, what a wonderful garden is here, Planted and trimmed for my Little-Oh-Dear! Posies so gaudy and grass of such brown – Search ye the country and hunt ye the town And never ye’ll meet with a garden so queer As this one I’ve made for my Little-Oh-Dear! Marigolds white and buttercups blue, Lilies all […]...
2. Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird I consider a song will be as humming-bird Swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange As the world of anti-matter Where they are wondering: does time run backward— Which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple; But can Henry write it? Wreckt, in deep danger, he shook once his head, Returning to meditation. And word had sped All […]...
3. Palanquin Bearers Lightly, O lightly we bear her along, She sways like a flower in the wind of our song; She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream, She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream. Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing, We bear her along like a pearl […]...
4. Swing high and swing low Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow – It’s off for a sailor thy father would go; And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea, He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me: “Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow!” Swing high […]...
5. Good-Children Street There’s a dear little home in Good-Children street – My heart turneth fondly to-day Where tinkle of tongues and patter of feet Make sweetest of music at play; Where the sunshine of love illumines each face And warms every heart in that old-fashioned place. For dear little children go romping about With dollies and tin […]...
6. Song in the Songless They have no song, the sedges dry, And still they sing. It is within my breast they sing, As I pass by. Within my breast they touch a string, They wake a sigh. There is but sound of sedges dry; In me they sing....
7. Work And Contemplation The woman singeth at her spinning-wheel A pleasant chant, ballad or barcarole; She thinketh of her song, upon the whole, Far more than of her flax; and yet the reel Is full, and artfully her fingers feel With quick adjustment, provident control, The lines too subtly twisted to unroll Out to a perfect thread. I […]...
8. Humming Bird Woman WHY should I be wondering How you would look in black velvet and yellow? in orange and green? I who cannot remember whether it was a dash of blue Or a whirr of red under your willow throat- Why do I wonder how you would look in humming-bird feathers?...
9. Humming-bird pie the paiute indians had the bird sussed A humming bird (loaded with seeds) set out To see beyond the sun – it aimed to be frugal Rationing itself to only one seed a day – even so It ran out long before it meant to It gave up (getting nowhere and seeing nothing) – All […]...
10. A New Hymn Sing a song of men’s pyjamas, Half-past-six has got a pair, And he’s wearing them this evening, And he’s looking such a dear. Sing a song of frocks with pockets I have got one, it is so’s I can use my ‘nitial hankies Every time I blow my nose....
11. The Three Bushes An incident from the ‘Historia mei Temporis’ Of the Abbe Michel de Bourdeille Said lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of love? I should be blamed, young man. O my dear, O my dear. […]...
12. Sing To Me Sing to me! Something of sunlight and bloom, I am so compassed with sorrow and gloom, I am so sick with the world’s noisse and strife, – Sing of the beauty and brightness of life – Sing to me, sing to me! Sing to me! Something that’s jubilant, glad! I am so weary, my soul […]...
13. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES Honour to you who sit Near to the well of wit, And drink your fill of it! Glory and worship be To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, Who still inspire me; And teach me how to sing Unto the lyric string, My measures ravishing! Then, while I sing your praise, My priest-hood crown with bays […]...
14. Minstrelsy For ever, since my childish looks Could rest on Nature’s pictured books; For ever, since my childish tongue Could name the themes our bards have sung; So long, the sweetness of their singing Hath been to me a rapture bringing! Yet ask me not the reason why I have delight in minstrelsy. I know that […]...
15. Little Pierre's Song In a humble room in London sat a pretty little boy, By the bedside of his sick mother her only joy, Who was called Little Pierre, and who’s father was dead; There he sat poor boy, hungry and crying for bread. There he sat humming a little song, which was his own, But to the […]...
16. Garden and cradle When our babe he goeth walking in his garden, Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play; The posies they are good to him, And bow them as they should to him, As fareth he upon his kingly way; And birdlings of the wood to him Make music, gentle music, all the day, When our babe […]...
17. The Crazy Woman I shall not sing a May song. A May song should be gay. I’ll wait until November And sing a song of gray. I’ll wait until November That is the time for me. I’ll go out in the frosty dark And sing most terribly. And all the little people Will stare at me and say, […]...
18. Spring Quiet Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing; Where in the whitethorn Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush. Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs Arching high over A cool green house: Full of sweet scents, And whispering […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. Song of the Soul XXII In the depth of my soul there is A wordless song – a song that lives In the seed of my heart. It refuses to melt with ink on Parchment; it engulfs my affection In a transparent cloak and flows, But not upon my lips. How can I sigh it? I fear it may Mingle […]...
21. Alciphron and Leucippe An ancient chestnut’s blossoms threw Their heavy odour over two: Leucippe, it is said, was one; The other, then, was Alciphron. ‘Come, come! why should we stand beneath?’ This hollow tree’s unwholesome breath?’ Said Alciphron, ‘here’s not a blade Of grass or moss, and scanty shade. Come; it is just the hour to rove In […]...
22. The Golden Age WHEN the morning breaks above us And the wild sweet stars have fled, By the faery hands that love us Wakened you and I will tread Where the lilacs on the lawn Shine with all their silver dews, In the stillness of a dawn Wrapped in tender primrose hues. We will hear the strange old […]...
23. TO LINA SHOULD these songs, love, as they fleet, Chance again to reach thy hand, At the piano take thy seat, Where thy friend was wont to stand! Sweep with finger bold the string, Then the book one moment see: But read not! do nought but sing! And each page thine own will be! Ah, what grief […]...
24. Sonnets xiv MY love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandised whose rich esteeming The owner’s tongue doth publish everywhere. Our love was new, and then but in the spring, When I was wont to greet it with my lays; As Philomel in summer’s […]...
25. Sonnet CII My love is strengthen’d, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear: That love is merchandized whose rich esteeming The owner’s tongue doth publish every where. Our love was new and then but in the spring When I was wont to greet it with my lays, As Philomel in […]...
26. Sonnet 102: My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming; I love not less, though less the show appear; That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming The owner’s tongue doth publish everywhere. Our love was new, and then but in the spring When I was wont to greet it with my lays, As Philomel in summer’s […]...
27. Child and mother O mother-my-love, if you’ll give me your hand, And go where I ask you to wander, I will lead you away to a beautiful land, The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder. We’ll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there, Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, And the flowers and the birds are filling the air […]...
28. THE MUSES' SON [Goethe quotes the beginning of this song in His Autobiography, as expressing the manner in which his poetical Effusions used to pour out from him.] THROUGH field and wood to stray, And pipe my tuneful lay, ‘Tis thus my days are pass’d; And all keep tune with me, And move in harmony, And so on, […]...
29. The Cap And Bells The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window-sill. It rose in a straight blue garment, When owls began to call: It had grown wise-tongued by thinking Of a quiet and light footfall; But the young queen would not listen; She rose […]...
30. The Song of the Borderguard The man with his lion under the shed of wars Sheds his belief as if he shed tears. The sound of words waits – A barbarian host at the borderline of sense. The enamord guards desert their posts Harkening to the lion-smell of a poem That rings in their ears. -Dreams, a certain guard said […]...
31. 233. Song-O were I on Parnassus Hill O, WERE I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee! But Nith maun be my Muse’s well, My Muse maun be thy bonie sel’, On Corsincon I’ll glowr and spell, And write how dear I love thee. Then come, sweet […]...
32. Off to the Fishing Ground There’s a piping wind from a sunrise shore Blowing over a silver sea, There’s a joyous voice in the lapsing tide That calls enticingly; The mist of dawn has taken flight To the dim horizon’s bound, And with wide sails set and eager hearts We’re off to the fishing ground. Ho, comrades mine, how that […]...
33. Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day, Didst make thy triumph over death and sin: And having harrow’d hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win: This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin, And grant that we for whom thou diddest die, Being with thy dear blood clean wash’d from […]...
34. So Let Us Love Most glorious Lord of life! that on this day Didst make thy triumph over death and sin, And having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win: This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin; And grant that we, for whom Thou diddest die, Being, with thy dear blood, clean washed from […]...
35. Sonnet VIII Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. Why lovest thou that which thou receivest not gladly, Or else receivest with pleasure thine annoy? If the true concord of well-tuned sounds, By unions married, do offend thine ear, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds […]...
36. Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly? Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly, Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy? If the true concord of well-tunèd sounds, By unions married, do offend thine ear, They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds […]...
37. Fiddle-Dee-Dee There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, And all he could whistle was “Fiddle-dee-dee” – A very provoking, unmusical song For one to be whistling the summer day long! Yet always contented and busy was he With that vocal recurrence of “Fiddle-dee-dee.” Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four, […]...
38. The Voiceless WE count the broken lyres that rest Where the sweet wailing singers slumber, But o’er their silent sister’s breast The wild-flowers who will stoop to number? A few can touch the magic string, And noisy Fame is proud to win them: Alas for those that never sing, But die with all their music in them! […]...
39. A Statesman's Holiday I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. No Oscar ruled the table, But I’d a troop of friends That knowing better talk had gone Talked of odds and ends. Some knew what ailed the world But never said a thing, So I […]...
40. To Lizbie Browne I Dear Lizbie Browne, Where are you now? In sun, in rain? – Or is your brow Past joy, past pain, Dear Lizbie Browne? II Sweet Lizbie Browne How you could smile, How you could sing! – How archly wile In glance-giving, Sweet Lizbie Browne! III And, Lizbie Browne, Who else had hair Bay-red as […]...