Crossed Threads

Related poetry:

1. To A World-Reformer “I Have sacrificed all,” thou sayest, “that man I might succor; Vain the attempt; my reward was persecution and hate.” Shall I tell thee, my friend, how I to humor him manage? Trust the proverb! I ne’er have been deceived by it yet. Thou canst not sufficiently prize humanity’s value; Let it be coined in […]...
2. This docile one inter This docile one inter While we who dare to live Arraign the sunny brevity That sparkled to the Grave. On her departing span No wilderness remain As dauntless in the House of Death As if it were her own...
3. The Crossed Apple I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard, Of wide report. I have trees there that bear me many apples. Of every sort: Clear, streaked; red and russet; green and golden; Sour and sweet. This apple’s from a tree yet unbeholden, Where two kinds meet,- So that this side is red without a […]...
4. The Taming of the Falcon The bird sits spelled upon the lithe brown wrist Of yonder turbaned fowler, who had lamed No feather limb, but the winged spirit tamed With his compelling eye. He need not trust The silken coil, not set the thick-limed snare; He lures the wanderer with his steadfast gaze, It shrinks, it quails, it trembles yet […]...
5. She Spins Silk Far up river in Szechuan, Waters rise as spring winds roar. How can I dare to meet her now, To brave the dangerous gorge? The grass grows green in the valley below Where silk worms silently spin. Her hands work threads that never end, Dawn to dusk when the cuckoo sings....
6. Is it Well with the Child? SAFE where I cannot die yet, Safe where I hope to lie too, Safe from the fume and the fret; You, and you, Whom I never forget. Safe from the frost and the snow, Safe from the storm and the sun, Safe where the seeds wait to grow One by one, And to come back […]...
7. The Silken Tent She is as in a field a silken tent At midday when the sunny summer breeze Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent, So that in guys it gently sways at ease, And its supporting central cedar pole, That is its pinnacle to heavenward And signifies the sureness of the soul, Seems to […]...
8. A Calendar of Sonnets: February Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white; And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence still; No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill, And willow stems grow daily red and bright. These are days when ancients held a rite Of expiation for the old year’s ill, And prayer to purify the new year’s will: […]...
9. Rest in Peace No more for you the city’s thorny ways, The ugly corners of the Negro belt; The miseries and pains of these harsh days By you will never, never again be felt. No more, if still you wander, will you meet With nights of unabating bitterness; They cannot reach you in your safe retreat, The city’s […]...
10. Dark Trinity Said I to Pain: “You would not dare Do ill to me.” Said Pain: “Poor fool! Why should I care Whom you may be? To clown and king alike I bring My meed of bane; Why should you shirk my chastening?” Said Pain. Said I to Grief: “No tears have I, Go on your way.” […]...
11. VANITAS! VANITATUM VANITAS! MY trust in nothing now is placed, Hurrah! So in the world true joy I taste, Hurrah! Then he who would be a comrade of mine Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine, Over these dregs of wine. I placed my trust in gold and wealth, Hurrah! But then I lost all joy and […]...
12. 203. Sylvander to Clarinda WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless fair, First struck Sylvander’s raptur’d view, He gaz’d, he listened to despair, Alas! ’twas all he dared to do. Love, from Clarinda’s heavenly eyes, Transfixed his bosom thro’ and thro’; But still in Friendships’ guarded guise, For more the demon fear’d to do. That heart, already more than lost, The […]...
13. He fought like those Who've nought to lose He fought like those Who’ve nought to lose Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use Invited Death with bold attempt But Death was Coy of Him As Other Men, were Coy of Death To Him to live was Doom His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes When […]...
14. Population Drifts NEW-MOWN hay smell and wind of the plain made her A woman whose ribs had the power of the hills in Them and her hands were tough for work and there Was passion for life in her womb. She and her man crossed the ocean and the years that Marked their faces saw them haggling […]...
15. Where? My snowy eupatorium has dropped Its silver threads of petals in the night; No signal told its blossoming had stopped; Its seed-films flutter silent, ghostly white: No answer stirs the shining air, As I ask, “Where?” Beneath the glossy leaves of winter-green Dead lilly-bells lie low, and in their place A rounded disk of pearly […]...
16. Life is what we make of it Life is what we make of it Death we do not know Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him though He would trust no stranger Other could betray Just His own endorsement That sufficeth Me All the other Distance He hath traversed first No New Mile remaineth Far as Paradise His sure foot preceding Tender Pioneer […]...
17. Sonnet LXXXIV: Highway Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be, And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses’ feet More oft than to a chamber melody. Now, blessed you bear onward blessed me To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet: My Muse and I must you of duty greet […]...
18. The Highway Highway, since you my chief Parnassus be, And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses’ feet More oft than to a chamber-melody, Now blessed you bear onward blessèd me To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet; My Muse and I must you of duty greet With […]...
19. How a Little Girl Danced DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain. I know a dancer, I know a dancer, Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain: Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer, With […]...
20. Advice I must do as you do? Your way I own Is a very good way, and still, There are sometimes two straight roads to a town, One over, one under the hill. You are treading the safe and the well-worn way, That the prudent choose each time; And you think me reckless and rash to-day […]...
21. II. Safety Dear! of all happy in the hour, most blest He who has found our hid security, Assured in the dark tides of the world that rest, And heard our word, ‘Who is so safe as we?’ We have found safety with all things undying, The winds, and morning, tears of men and mirth, The deep […]...
22. The Charge of the Second Iowa Cavalry Comrades, many a year and day Have fled since that glorious 9th of May When we made the charge at Farmington. But until our days on earth are done Our blood will burn and our hearts beat fast As we tell of the glorious moments we passed, When we rode on the guns with a […]...
23. Oh! Mr Best You're Very Bad Oh! Mr. Best, you’re very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By me, a tunefull Poet. You used to go to Harrowgate Each summer as it came, And why I pray should you refuse To go this year the same? The way’s as plain, the road’s as […]...
24. My Tenants I never had a title-deed To my estate. But little heed Eyes give to me, when I walk by My fields, to see who occupy. Some clumsy men who lease and hire And cut my trees to feed their fire, Own all the land that I possess, And tax my tenants to distress. And if […]...
25. Earth the Healer, Earth the Keeper So swift the hours are moving Unto the time unproved: Farewell my love unloving, Farewell my love beloved! What! are we not glad-hearted? Is there no deed to do? Is not all fear departed And Spring-tide blossomed new? The sails swell out above us, The sea-ridge lifts the keel; For They have called who love […]...
26. Before The Cask of Wine The spring wind comes from the east and quickly passes, Leaving faint ripples in the wine of the golden bowl. The flowers fall, flake after flake, myriads together. You, pretty girl, wine-flushed, Your rosy face is rosier still. How long may the peach and plum trees flower By the green-painted house? The fleeting light deceives […]...
27. The Rose Family – Song II O lesson well and wisely taught Stay with me to the last, That all my life may better be For the trial that is past. O vanity, mislead no more! Sleep, like passions, long! Wake, happy heart, and dance again To the music of my song! O summer days, flit fast away, And bring the […]...
28. Count That Day Lost If you sit down at set of sun And count the acts that you have done, And, counting, find One self-denying deed, one word That eased the heart of him who heard, One glance most kind That fell like sunshine where it went Then you may count that day well spent. But if, through all […]...
29. For A Poet I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth, And laid them away in a box of gold; Where long will cling the lips of the moth, I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth; I hide no hate; I am not even wroth Who found the earth’s breath so keen and cold; I […]...
30. Well, I Have Lost You Well, I have lost you; and I lost you fairly; In my own way, and with my full consent. Say what you will, kings in a tumbrel rarely Went to their deaths more proud than this one went. Some nights of apprehension and hot weeping I will confess; but that’s permitted me; Day dried my […]...
31. The Visionary Silent is the house: all are laid asleep: One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep, Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees. Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor; Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door; The little lamp burns straight, its […]...
32. An Eare-Stringe ‘Tis vayne to add a ring or gemme, Your eare itselfe outpasseth them. When idle words are passing here, I warne and pull you by the eare. This silken chayne stands wayting here For golden tongues to tye on there. Here silken twynes, there locks you see Now tell me which the softer bee?...
33. At the Window I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was A time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A certain indifference, I Have not always known well what I wanted to say, but most often it was because I had […]...
34. The Song Of The Mouth-Organ (With apologies to the singer of the “Song of the Banjo”.) I’m a homely little bit of tin and bone; I’m beloved by the Legion of the Lost; I haven’t got a “vox humana” tone, And a dime or two will satisfy my cost. I don’t attempt your high-falutin’ flights; I am more or less […]...
35. Last Curtain I know that the day will come When my sight of this earth shall be lost, And life will take its leave in silence, Drawing the last curtain over my eyes. Yet stars will watch at night, And morning rise as before, And hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. When I […]...
36. The Hollow Men Mistah Kurtz he dead. A penny for the Old Guy I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats’ feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape […]...
37. It would not know if it were spurned It would not know if it were spurned, This gallant little flower How therefore safe to be a flower If one would tamper there. To enter, it would not aspire But may it not despair That it is not a Cavalier, To dare and perish there?...
38. Those who have been in the Grave the longest Those who have been in the Grave the longest Those who begin Today Equally perish from our Practise Death is the other way Foot of the Bold did least attempt it It is the White Exploit Once to achieve, annuls the power Once to communicate...
39. The Heritage Cry out on Time that he may take away Your cold philosophies that give no hint Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall down and pray That Death come never with a face of flint: Death is our heritage; with Life we share The sunlight that must own his darkening hour: Within his very presence yet we dare […]...
40. V. R. 1819-1901 (A Reverie.) Moments the mightiest pass calendared, And when the Absolute In backward Time outgave the deedful word Whereby all life is stirred: “Let one be born and throned whose mould shall constitute The norm of every royal-reckoned attribute,” No mortal knew or heard. But in due days the purposed Life outshone – Serene, sagacious, free; Her […]...