Winfreda

Related poetry:

1. The True Encounter “Wolf!” cried my cunning heart At every sheep it spied, And roused the countryside. “Wolf! Wolf!”-and up would start Good neighbours, bringing spade And pitchfork to my aid. At length my cry was known: Therein lay my release. I met the wolf alone And was devoured in peace....
2. Where It Was At Back Then Husband, Last night I dreamt They cut off your hands and feet. Husband, You whispered to me, Now we are both incomplete. Husband, I held all four In my arms like sons and daughters. Husband, I bent slowly down And washed them in magical waters. Husband, I placed each one Where it belonged on you. […]...
3. The Law of the Jungle (From The Jungle Book) Now this is the Law of the Jungle as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back For the strength of […]...
4. Dorcas Gustine I was not beloved of the villagers, But all because I spoke my mind, And met those who transgressed against me With plain remonstrance, hiding nor nurturing Nor secret griefs nor grudges. That act of the Spartan boy is greatly praised, Who hid the wolf under his cloak, Letting it devour him, uncomplainingly. It is […]...
5. Hunting-Song of the Seeonee Pack (From The Jungle Book) As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled Once, twice, and again! And a doe leaped up and a doe leaped up From the pond in the wood where the wild deer sup. This I, scouting alone, beheld, Once, twice, and again! As the dawn was breaking the Sambhur belled Once, […]...
6. The Widow Cold was the night wind, drifting fast the snows fell, Wide were the downs and shelterless and naked, When a poor Wanderer struggled on her journey Weary and way-sore. Drear were the downs, more dreary her reflexions; Cold was the night wind, colder was her bosom! She had no home, the world was all before […]...
7. The Consolation Though bleak these woods and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strewn, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan, There is a friendly roof I know Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
8. The Soldier's Wife Weary way-wanderer languid and sick at heart Travelling painfully over the rugged road, Wild-visag’d Wanderer! ah for thy heavy chance! Sorely thy little one drags by thee bare-footed, Cold is the baby that hangs at thy bending back Meagre and livid and screaming its wretchedness. Woe-begone mother, half anger, half agony, As over thy shoulder […]...
9. Hymn To Life The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can’t see, the moon must be rising. It hasn’t reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know […]...
10. The First Surveyor ‘The man who brought the railway through our friend the engineer.’ They cheer his pluck and enterprise and engineering skill! ‘Twas my old husband found the pass behind that big red hill. Before the engineer was born we’d settled with our stock Behind that great big mountain chain, a line of range and rock A […]...
11. The wooing of the southland (ALASKAN BALLAD) The Northland reared his hoary head And spied the Southland leagues away “Fairest of all fair brides,” he said, “Be thou my bride, I pray!” Whereat the Southland laughed and cried: “I’ll bide beside my native sea, And I shall never be thy bride Till thou com’st wooing me!” The Northland’s heart was […]...
12. Marked with D When the chilled dough of his flesh went in an oven Not unlike those he fuelled all his life, I thought of his cataracts ablaze with Heaven And radiant with the sight of his dead wife, Light streaming from his mouth to shape her name, ‘not Florence and not Flo but always Florrie.’ I thought […]...
13. Though the Last Glimpse of Erin With Sorrow I See Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, Yet wherever thou art shall seem Erin to me; In exile thy bosom shall still be my home, And thine eyes make my climate wherever we roam. To the gloom of some desert or cold rocky shore, Where the eye of the stranger can haunt […]...
14. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
15. God's-Acre I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God’s-Acre! It is just; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o’er the sleeping dust. God’s-Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown The seed that they had garnered in their hearts, Their bread […]...
16. Modern Love XXV: You Like Not That French Novel You like not that French novel? Tell me why. You think it quite unnatural. Let us see. The actors are, it seems, the usual three: Husband, and wife, and lover. She but fie! In England we’ll not hear of it. Edmond, The lover, her devout chagrin doth share; Blanc-mange and absinthe are his penitent fare, […]...
17. The Student's Serenade I have slept upon my couch, But my spirit did not rest, For the labours of the day Yet my weary soul opprest; And, before my dreaming eyes Still the learned volumes lay, And I could not close their leaves, And I could not turn away. But I oped my eyes at last, And I […]...
18. Primavera in the North She has danced for leagues and leagues, Over thorns and thistles, Prancing to a tune of Griegg’s Performed on willow whistles. Antelopes behold her, dazed, Velvet-eyed, and furry; Polar flowers, crackle-glazed, Snap beneath her hurry. In a wig of copper wire, A gown of scalloped gauzes, She capers like a flame of fire Over Arctic […]...
19. Ollie McGee Have you seen walking through the village A man with downcast eyes and haggard face? That is my husband who, by secret cruelty Never to be told, robbed me of my youth and my beauty; Till at last, wrinkled and with yellow teeth, And with broken pride and shameful humility, I sank into the grave. […]...
20. Po' Boy Blues When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. When I was home de Sunshine seemed like gold. Since I come up North de Whole damn world’s turned cold. I was a good boy, Never done no wrong. Yes, I was a good boy, Never done no wrong, But this world is weary An’ de […]...
21. Tinuviel The leaves were long, the grass was green, The hemlock-umbels tall and fair, And in the glade a light was seen Of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there To music of a pipe unseen, And light of stars was in her hair, And in her raiment glimmering. There Beren came from mountains cold, […]...
22. Dedication To Joseph Mazzini Take, since you bade it should bear, These, of the seed of your sowing, Blossom or berry or weed. Sweet though they be not, or fair, That the dew of your word kept growing, Sweet at least was the seed. Men bring you love-offerings of tears, And sorrow the kiss that assuages, And slaves the […]...
23. The Melting An old woman likes to melt her husband. She puts him in A melting device, and he pours out the other end in a hot Bloody syrup, which she catches in a series of little husband Molds. What splatters on the floor the dog licks up. When they have set she has seventeen little husbands. […]...
24. NOVEMBER SONG To the great archer not to him To meet whom flies the sun, And who is wont his features dim With clouds to overrun But to the boy be vow’d these rhymes, Who ‘mongst the roses plays, Who hear us, and at proper times To pierce fair hearts essays. Through him the gloomy winter night, […]...
25. In The Village Of My Ancestors Someone embraces me Someone looks at me with the eyes of a wolf Someone takes off his hat So I can see him better Everyone asks me Do you know how I’m related to you Unknown old men and women Appropriate the names Of young men and women from my memory I ask one of […]...
26. Cat Scat I am watching Cleo listening, our cat Listening to Mozart’s Magic Flute. What Can she be hearing? What Can the air carry into her ears like that, Her ears swivelling like radio dishes that Are tuned to all the noise of the world, flat And sharp, high and low, a scramble of this and that […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. 366. Song-The weary Pund o' Tow Chorus.-The weary pund, the weary pund, The weary pund o’ tow; I think my wife will end her life, Before she spin her tow. I BOUGHT my wife a stane o’ lint, As gude as e’er did grow, And a’ that she has made o’ that Is ae puir pund o’ tow. The weary pund, […]...
29. A Greek Girl I may not weep, not weep, and he is dead. A weary, weary weight of tears unshed Through the long day in my sad heart I bear; The horrid sun with all unpitying glare Shines down into the dreary weaving-room, Where clangs the ceaseless clatter of the loom, And ceaselessly deft maiden-fingers weave The fine-wrought […]...
30. The singing in god's acre Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God’s Acre lies, Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies. Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low, As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow, “Sleep, oh, sleep! The Shepherd guardeth His sheep. Fast speedeth the night away, Soon […]...
31. The Logger In the moonless, misty night, with my little pipe alight, I am sitting by the camp-fire’s fading cheer; Oh, the dew is falling chill on the dim, deer-haunted hill, And the breakers in the bay are moaning drear. The toilful hours are sped, the boys are long abed, And I alone a weary vigil keep; […]...
32. When the Children Come Home On a lonely selection far out in the West An old woman works all the day without rest, And she croons, as she toils ‘neath the sky’s glassy dome, ‘Sure I’ll keep the ould place till the childer come home.’ She mends all the fences, she grubs, and she ploughs, She drives the old horse […]...
33. Winter Clouded with snow The cold winds blow, And shrill on leafless bough The robin with its burning breast Alone sings now. The rayless sun, Day’s journey done, Sheds its last ebbing light On fields in leagues of beauty spread Unearthly white. Thick draws the dark, And spark by spark, The frost-fires kindle, and soon Over […]...
34. Ample make this Bed Ample make this Bed Make this Bed with Awe In it wait till Judgment break Excellent and Fair. Be its Mattress straight Be its Pillow round Let no Sunrise’ yellow noise Interrupt this Ground...
35. The Rat's Tight Schedule A man stumbled on some rat droppings. Hey, who put those there? That’s dangerous, he said. His wife said, those are pieces of a rat. Wait, he’s coming apart, he’s all over the floor, said the Husband. He can’t help it; you don’t think he wants to drop pieces of Himself all over the floor, […]...
36. The drum I’m a beautiful red, red drum, And I train with the soldier boys; As up the street we come, Wonderful is our noise! There’s Tom, and Jim, and Phil, And Dick, and Nat, and Fred, While Widow Cutler’s Bill And I march on ahead, With a r-r-rat-tat-tat And a tum-titty-um-tum-tum – Oh, there’s bushels of […]...
37. The Surprise As there I left the road in May, And took my way along a ground, I found a glade with girls at play, By leafy boughs close-hemmed around, And there, with stores of harmless joys, They plied their tongues, in merry noise: Though little did they seem to fear So queer a stranger might be […]...
38. Arrival Across a thousand miles of sea, a hundred leagues of land, Along a path I had not traced and could not understand, I travelled fast and far for this, to take thee by the hand. A pilgrim knowing not the shrine where he would bend his knee, A mariner without a dream of what his […]...
39. 373. Song-The Slave's Lament IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O. All on […]...
40. I, or Someone Like Me In a wilderness, in some orchestral swing Through trees, with a wind playing all the high notes, And the prospect of a string bass inside the wood, I, or someone like me, had a kind of vision. As the person on the ground moved, bursting halos Topped first one tree, then another and another, Till […]...