The Master Singer
A LAUGHTER in the diamond air, a music in the trembling grass;
And one by one the words of light as joydrops through my being pass:
“I am the sunlight in the heart, the silver moon-glow in the mind;
My laughter runs and ripples through the wavy tresses of the wind.
I am the fire upon the hills, the dancing flame that leads afar
Each burning-hearted wanderer, and I the dear and homeward star.
A myriad lovers died for me, and in their latest yielded breath
I woke in glory giving them immortal life though touched by death.
They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rainbow wings,
If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo sings,
It matters not the name, the land: my joy in all the gods abides:
Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and hides.
For joy of me the daystar glows, and in delight and wild desire
The peacock twilight rays aloft its plumes and blooms of shadowy fire,
Where in the vastness too I burn through summer nights and ages long,
And with the fiery-footed watchers shake in myriad dance and song.”
Related poetry:
- A Singer of the Bush There is waving of grass in the breeze And a song in the air, And a murmur of myriad bees That toil everywhere. There is scent in the blossom and bough, And the breath of the Spring Is as soft as a kiss on a brow And Spring-time I sing. There is drought on the […]...
- Hide-And-Seek Someone hides from someone else Hides under his tongue The other looks for him under the earth He hides on his forehead The other looks for him in the sky He hides inside his forgetfulness The other looks for him in the grass Looks for him looks There’s no place he doesn’t look And looking […]...
- A Precise Woman A precise woman with a short haircut brings order To my thoughts and my dresser drawers, Moves feelings around like furniture Into a new arrangement. A woman whose body is cinched at the waist and firmly divided Into upper and lower, With weather-forecast eyes Of shatterproof glass. Even her cries of passion follow a certain […]...
- Sestina I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow, To the short day and to the whitening hills, When the colour is all lost from the grass, Though my desire will not lose its green, So rooted is it in this hardest stone, That speaks and feels as though it were a woman. And […]...
- The Master of the Dance A chant to which it is intended a group of children shall dance and improvise pantomime led by their dancing-teacher. I A master deep-eyed Ere his manhood was ripe, He sang like a thrush, He could play any pipe. So dull in the school That he scarcely could spell, He read but a bit, And […]...
- Sleeping Out: Full Moon They sleep within. . . . I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. High and cold thou dreamest, O queen, high-dreaming and lonely. We have slept too long, who can hardly win The white one flame, and the night-long crying; The viewless passers; the world’s low sighing With desire, with yearning, To the […]...
- The Indian Upon God I passed along the water’s edge below the humid trees, My spirit rocked in evening light, the rushes round my knees, My spirit rocked in sleep and sighs; and saw the moor-fowl pace All dripping on a grassy slope, and saw them cease to chase Each other round in circles, and heard the eldest speak: […]...
- Star Teachers EVEN as a bird sprays many-coloured fires, The plumes of paradise, the dying light Rays through the fevered air in misty spires That vanish in the heights. These myriad eyes that look on me are mine; Wandering beneath them I have found again The ancient ample moment, the divine, The God-root within men. For this, […]...
- The Late Singer Here it is spring again And I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on his breast Has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past: What is it that is dragging at my heart? The grass by the back door Is stiff with sap. The […]...
- O Singer in Brown O, singer in brown! O, bird o’ th’ morn! O, heart of delight In th’ deep o’ th’ thorn! Glad is thy song Thou joy o’ th’ morn, Thou palpitant throat In the heart o’ th’ thorn! Thy song of the nest, O, sweet o’ th’ morn! A nest and an egg In the thick […]...
- Letter Sent to Master Timmy Dwight Master Timmy brisk and airy Blythe as Oberon the fairy On thy head thy cousin wishes Thousand and ten thousand blisses. Never may thy wicket ball In a well or puddle fall; Or thy wild ambitious kite O’er the elm’s thick foliage light. When on bended knee thou sittest And the mark in fancy hittest […]...
- Room 5: The Concert Singer I’m one of these haphazard chaps Who sit in cafes drinking; A most improper taste, perhaps, Yet pleasant, to my thinking. For, oh, I hate discord and strife; I’m sadly, weakly human; And I do think the best of life Is wine and song and woman. Now, there’s that youngster on my right Who thinks […]...
- The Joy of Earth OH, the sudden wings arising from the ploughed fields brown Showered aloft in spray of song the wild-bird twitter floats O’er the unseen fount awhile, and then comes dropping down Nigh the cool brown earth to hush enraptured notes. Far within a dome of trembling opal throbs the fire, Mistily its rain of diamond lances […]...
- Day IN day from some titanic past it seems As if a thread divine of memory runs; Born ere the Mighty One began his dreams, Or yet were stars and suns. But here an iron will has fixed the bars; Forgetfulness falls on earth’s myriad races: No image of the proud and morning stars Looks at […]...
- The Rose and the Cross Out of the seething cauldron of my woes, Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung; Where charmed music gathered from my tongue, And where I chained strange archipelagoes Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows A curious bitumen; where among The glowing medley moved the tune unsung Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic […]...
- The Awakening River The gulls are mad-in-love with the river, And the river unveils her face and smiles. In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings. She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her. He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her. There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter. […]...
- An Ode to Master Endymion Porter, Upon His Brother's Death Not all thy flushing suns are set, Herrick, as yet ; Nor doth this far-drawn hemisphere Frown and look sullen ev’rywhere. Days may conclude in nights, and suns may rest As dead within the west ; Yet, the next morn, regild the fragrant east. Alas! for me, that I have lost E’en all almost ; […]...
- A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts The difficulty to think at the end of day, When the shapeless shadow covers the sun And nothing is left except light on your fur- There was the cat slopping its milk all day, Fat cat, red tongue, green mind, white milk And August the most peaceful month. To be, in the grass, in the […]...
- Song. A Beautiful Mistress IF when the sun at noon displays His brighter rays, Thou but appear, He then, all pale with shame and fear, Quencheth his light, Hides his dark brow, flies from thy sight, And grows more dim, Compared to thee, than stars to him. If thou but show thy face again, When darkness doth at midnight […]...
- Please Master Please master can I touch your cheeck Please master can I kneel at your feet Please master can I loosen your blue pants Please master can I gaze at your golden haired belly Please master can I have your thighs bare to my eyes Please master can I take off my clothes below your chair […]...
- Sun of the Sleepless! Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star! Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far, That show’st the darkness thou canst not dispel, How like art thou to joy remember’d well! So gleams the past, the light of other days, Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays; A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold, Distinct but distant […]...
- The Seer OH, if my spirit may foretell Or earlier impart, It is because I always dwell With morning in my heart. I feel the keen embrace of light Ere dawning on the view It sprays the chilly fold of night With iridescent dew. The robe of dust around it cast Hides not the earth below, Its […]...
- Apology Be not angry with me that I bear Your colours everywhere, All through each crowded street, And meet The wonder-light in every eye, As I go by. Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze, Blinded by rainbow haze, The stuff of happiness, No less, Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds Of peacock golds. Before […]...
- My Lady in Her White Silk Shawl My lady in her white silk shawl Is like a lily dim, Within the twilight of the room Enthroned and kind and prim. My lady! Pale gold is her hair. Until she smiles her face Is pale with far Hellenic moods, With thoughts that find no place In our harsh village of the West Wherein […]...
- Momus, God Of Laughter Though with gods the world is cumbered, Gods unnamed, and gods unnumbered, Never god was known to be Who had not his devotee. So I dedicate to mine, Here in verse, my temple-shrine. ‘Tis not Ares, – mighty Mars, Who can give success in wars. ‘Tis not Morpheus, who doth keep Guard above us while […]...
- My Delight and Thy Delight My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night: My desire and thy desire Twining to a tongue of fire, Leaping live, and laughing higher: Thro’ the everlasting strife In the mystery of life. Love, from whom the world begun, Hath the secret of the sun. Love can […]...
- Singer in the Prison, The 1 O sight of shame, and pain, and dole! O fearful thought-a convict Soul! RANG the refrain along the hall, the prison, Rose to the roof, the vaults of heaven above, Pouring in floods of melody, in tones so pensive, sweet and strong, the like whereof was never heard, Reaching the far-off sentry, and the […]...
- The Wind of Sorrow The fire of love was burning, yet so low That in the dark we scarce could see its rays, And in the light of perfect-placid days Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow. Vainly, for love’s delight, we sought to throw New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze: In life’s calm air and […]...
- The Fair Singer To make a final conquest of all me, Love did compose so sweet an Enemy, In whom both Beauties to my death agree, Joyning themselves in fatal Harmony; That while she with her Eyes my Heart does bind, She with her Voice might captivate my Mind. I could have fled from One but singly fair: […]...
- A Singer That which he did not feel, he would not sing; What most he felt, religion it was to hide In a dumb darkling grotto, where the spring Of tremulous tears, arising unespied, Became a holy well that durst not glide Into the day with moil or murmuring; Whereto, as if to some unlawful thing, He […]...
- 'Twas later when the summer went ‘Twas later when the summer went Than when the Cricket came And yet we knew that gentle Clock Meant nought but Going Home ‘Twas sooner when the Cricket went Than when the Winter came Yet that pathetic Pendulum Keeps esoteric Time....
- French Quarter Singer Strumming your polished guitar with long, nail-lightened fingers, Where are you now, leaning forward a peasant-dressed arm – Lark on the near side of midnight, my crescent curb lady, Ear to your sound, dangling each with a silver folk charm? Sweet was your voice for an evening, amid the brash jazzy – Seamless soprano, your […]...
- Songs For A Colored Singer I A washing hangs upon the line, but it’s not mine. None of the things that I can see belong to me. The neighbors got a radio with an aerial; we got a little portable. They got a lot of closet space; we got a suitcase. I say, “Le Roy, just how much are we […]...
- 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 […]...
- A Vision of Beauty WHERE we sat at dawn together, while the star-rich heavens shifted, We were weaving dreams in silence, suddenly the veil was lifted. By a hand of fire awakened, in a moment caught and led Upward to the heaven of heavens-through the star-mists overhead Flare and flaunt the monstrous highlands; on the sapphire coast of night […]...
- Finis An idle rhyme of the summer time, Sweet, and solemn, and tender; Fair with the haze of the moon’s pale rays, Bright with the sunset’s splendour. Summer and beauty over the lands – Careless hours of pleasure; A meeting of eyes and a touching of hands – A change in the floating measure. A deeper […]...
- The Dog And His Master NO better Dog e’er kept his Master’s Door Than honest Snarl, who spar’d nor Rich nor Poor; But gave the Alarm, when any one drew nigh, Nor let pretended Friends pass fearless by: For which reprov’d, as better Fed than Taught, He rightly thus expostulates the Fault. To keep the House from Rascals was my […]...
- Master Hugues Of Saxe-Gotha An imaginary composer.] I. Hist, but a word, fair and soft! Forth and be judged, Master Hugues! Answer the question I’ve put you so oft: What do you mean by your mountainous fugues? See, we’re alone in the loft, – II. I, the poor organist here, Hugues, the composer of note, Dead though, and done […]...
- Before Sunset Love’s twilight wanes in heaven above, On earth ere twilight reigns: Ere fear may feel the chill thereof, Love’s twilight wanes. Ere yet the insatiate heart complains ‘Too much, and scarce enough,’ The lip so late athirst refrains. Soft on the neck of either dove Love’s hands let slip the reins: And while we look […]...
- Fit the Eighth (Hunting of the Snark ) The Vanishing They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care; They pursued it with forks and hope; They threatened its life with a railway-share; They charmed it with smiles and soap. They shuddered to think that the chase might fail, And the Beaver, excited at last, Went bounding along on the tip of […]...