The Poetry Of Life

Related poetry:

1. Hymn To Apollo God of the golden bow, And of the golden lyre, And of the golden hair, And of the golden fire, Charioteer Of the patient year, Where – where slept thine ire, When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath, Thy laurel, thy glory, The light of thy story, Or was I a worm […]...
2. My Earlier Life I’ve been home a long time among the vast porticos, Which the mariner sun has tinged with a million fires, Whose grandest pillars, upright, majestic and cold Render them the same, this evening, as caves with basalt spires. The swells’ overwhelming accords of rich music, Heaving images of heaven to the skies, Mingle in a […]...
3. A Song Of Life In the rapture of life and of living, I lift up my head and rejoice, And I thank the great Giver for giving The soul of my gladness a voice. In the glow of the glorious weather, In the sweet-scented, sensuous air, My burdens seem light as a feather – They are nothing to bear. […]...
4. Life and Art Not while the fever of the blood is strong, The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less With passion than with tears, the Muse shall bless The poet-sould to help and soothe with song. Not then she bids his trembling lips express The aching gladness, the voluptuous pain. Life is his poem then; […]...
5. A FORMER LIFE LONG since, I lived beneath vast porticoes, By many ocean-sunsets tinged and fired, Where mighty pillars, in majestic rows, Seemed like basaltic caves when day expired. The rolling surge that mirrored all the skies Mingled its music, turbulent and rich, Solemn and mystic, with the colours which The setting sun reflected in my eyes. And […]...
6. The Two Guides Of Life – The Sublime And The Beautiful Two genii are there, from thy birth through weary life to guide thee; Ah, happy when, united both, they stand to aid beside thee? With gleesome play to cheer the path, the one comes blithe with beauty, And lighter, leaning on her arm, the destiny and duty. With jest and sweet discourse she goes unto […]...
7. An Image From A Past Life He. Never until this night have I been stirred. The elaborate starlight throws a reflection On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scream From terrified, invisible beast or bird: Image of poignant recollection. She. An image of my heart that is smitten through Out of all likelihood, or […]...
8. Stream Of Life The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day Runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth In numberless blades of grass And breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same […]...
9. All My Past Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams given o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. What ever is to come is not, How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot, And that as fast as it is got, Phyllis, […]...
10. Love and Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams giv’n o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, […]...
11. The Art Of Poetry To gaze at a river made of time and water And remember Time is another river. To know we stray like a river And our faces vanish like water. To feel that waking is another dream That dreams of not dreaming and that the death We fear in our bones is the death That every […]...
12. Introduction To Poetry I ask them to take a poem And hold it up to the light Like a color slide Or press an ear against its hive. I say drop a mouse into a poem And watch him probe his way out, Or walk inside the poem’s room And feel the walls for a light switch. I […]...
13. A Psalm of Life WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust […]...
14. A Parody on "A Psalm of Life&quot Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen. Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not like muffled drums be beating On the inside of the shell. In the world’s […]...
15. Jugurtha How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his death in the hollow Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo! How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, As the vision, that lured him to follow, With […]...
16. 328. Poem on Pastoral Poetry HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv’d! In chase o’ thee, what crowds hae swerv’d Frae common sense, or sunk enerv’d ‘Mang heaps o’ clavers: And och! o’er aft thy joes hae starv’d, ‘Mid a’ thy favours! Say, Lassie, why, thy train amang, While loud the trump’s heroic clang, And sock or buskin skelp alang To death […]...
17. THE COUNTRY LIFE TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, GROOM OF THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTY Sweet country life, to such unknown, Whose lives are others’, not their own! But serving courts and cities, be Less happy, less enjoying thee. Thou never plough’st the ocean’s foam To seek and bring rough pepper home: Nor to the Eastern Ind […]...
18. The Life that tied too tight escapes The Life that tied too tight escapes Will ever after run With a prudential look behind And spectres of the Rein The Horse that scents the living Grass And sees the Pastures smile Will be retaken with a shot If he is caught at all...
19. A still Volcano Life A still Volcano Life That flickered in the night When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight A quiet Earthquake Style Too subtle to suspect By natures this side Naples The North cannot detect The Solemn Torrid Symbol The lips that never lie Whose hissing Corals part and shut And Cities ooze away...
20. 488. Song-The Winter of Life BUT lately seen in gladsome green, The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing flowers In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled On winter blasts awa; Yet maiden May, in rich array, Again shall bring them a’. But my white pow, nae kindly thowe Shall melt the snaws of […]...
21. The Spirit of Poetry There is a quiet spirit in these woods, That dwells where’er the gentle south-wind blows; Where, underneath the white-thorn, in the glade, The wild flowers bloom, or, kissing the soft air, The leaves above their sunny palms outspread. With what a tender and impassioned voice It fills the nice and delicate ear of thought, When […]...
22. Each Day A Life I count each day a little life, With birth and death complete; I cloister it from care and strife And keep it sane and sweet. With eager eyes I greet the morn, Exultant as a boy, Knowing that I am newly born To wonder and to joy. And when the sunset splendours wane And ripe […]...
23. Eating Poetry Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry. The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad And she walks with her hands in her dress. The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs […]...
24. PHOEBUS AND HERMES DELOS’ stately ruler, and Maia’s son, the adroit one, Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain. Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim’d by Apollo, Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish’d by hope. For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive, Dashing in twain the […]...
25. The Witch's Life When I was a child There was an old woman in our neighborhood whom we called The Witch. All day she peered from her second story Window From behind the wrinkled curtains And sometimes she would open the window And yell: Get out of my life! She had hair like kelp And a voice like […]...
26. More Life went out when He went More Life went out when He went Than Ordinary Breath Lit with a finer Phosphor Requiring in the Quench A Power of Renowned Cold, The Climate of the Grave A Temperature just adequate So Anthracite, to live For some an Ampler Zero A Frost more needle keen Is necessary, to reduce The Ethiop within. Others […]...
27. To the Muse of Poetry EXULT MY MUSE! exult to see Each envious, waspish, jealous thing, Around its harmless venom fling, And dart its powerless fangs at THEE! Ne’er shalt THOU bend thy radiant wing, To sweep the dark revengeful string; Or meanly stoop, to steal a ray, E’en from RINALDO’S glorious lay, Tho’ his transcendent Verse should twine About […]...
28. Human Life If dead, we cease to be ; if total gloom Swallow up life’s brief flash for aye, we fare As summer-gusts, of sudden birth and doom, Whose sound and motion not alone declare, But are their whole of being! If the breath Be Life itself, and not its task and tent, If even a soul […]...
29. A COUNTRY LIFE:TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK Thrice, and above, blest, my soul’s half, art thou, In thy both last and better vow; Could’st leave the city, for exchange, to see The country’s sweet simplicity; And it to know and practise, with intent To grow the sooner innocent; By studying to know virtue, and to aim More at her nature than her […]...
30. To Life O life with the sad seared face, I weary of seeing thee, And thy draggled cloak, and thy hobbling pace, And thy too-forced pleasantry! I know what thou would’st tell Of Death, Time, Destiny – I have known it long, and know, too, well What it all means for me. But canst thou not array […]...
31. Song of Callicles, The Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O Apollo! Are haunts meet for thee. But, where Helicon breaks down In cliff to the sea. Where the moon-silver’d inlets Send far their light voice Up the still vale of Thisbe, O speed, and rejoice! […]...
32. Apollo Musagetes Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame; All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O Apollo! Are haunts meet for thee. But, where Helicon breaks down In cliff to the sea, Where the moon-silver’d inlets Send far their light voice Up the still vale of Thisbe, O speed, and rejoice! […]...
33. A Supplication Awake, awake, my Lyre! And tell thy silent master’s humble tale In sounds that may prevail; Sounds that gentle thoughts inspire: Though so exalted she And I so lowly be Tell her, such different notes make all thy harmony. Hark, how the strings awake! And, though the moving hand approach not near, Themselves with awful […]...
34. Life LIFE, believe, is not a dream So dark as sages say; Oft a little morning rain Foretells a pleasant day. Sometimes there are clouds of gloom, But these are transient all; If the shower will make the roses bloom, O why lament its fall? Rapidly, merrily, Life’s sunny hours flit by, Gratefully, cheerily, Enjoy them […]...
35. Between the form of Life and Life Between the form of Life and Life The difference is as big As Liquor at the Lip between And Liquor in the Jug The latter excellent to keep But for ecstatic need The corkless is superior I know for I have tried...
36. This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life I mention it to you, When Sunrise through a fissure drop The Day must follow too. If we demur, its gaping sides Disclose as ’twere a Tomb Ourself am lying straight wherein The Favorite of Doom. When it has just contained a Life Then, Darling, it will close And […]...
37. The Ideal And The Actual Life Forever fair, forever calm and bright, Life flies on plumage, zephyr-light, For those who on the Olympian hill rejoice Moons wane, and races wither to the tomb, And ‘mid the universal ruin, bloom The rosy days of Gods With man, the choice, Timid and anxious, hesitates between The sense’s pleasure and the soul’s content; While […]...
38. THE RULE OF LIFE IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care, Let not the past torment thee e’er; As little as possible be thou annoy’d, And let the present be ever enjoy’d; Ne’er let thy breast with hate be supplied, And to God the future confide. 1815.*...
39. The Silent Melody “BRING me my broken harp,” he said; “We both are wrecks, but as ye will, Though all its ringing tones have fled, Their echoes linger round it still; It had some golden strings, I know, But that was long how long! ago. “I cannot see its tarnished gold, I cannot hear its vanished tone, Scarce […]...
40. To G. A. W Nymph of the downward smile and sidelong glance! In what diviner moments of the day Art thou most lovely?-when gone far astray Into the labyrinths of sweet utterance, Or when serenely wandering in a trance Of sober thought? Or when starting away, With careless robe to meet the morning ray, Thou sparest the flowers in […]...