For M. W

Related poetry:

1. Georgia Dusk The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue The setting sun, too indolent to hold A lengthened tournament for flashing gold, Passively darkens for night’s barbecue, A feast of moon and men and barking hounds, An orgy for some genius of the South With blood-hot eyes and cane-lipped scented mouth, Surprised in making folk-songs from soul sounds. […]...
2. SOUND OF SLEAT I always looked out at the world, And wondered if the world looked back at me, Standing on the edge of something, On my face – the wind from the cold sea. Across the waters were mirrors to see Faces that looked like me, People caught between two places, People crossing over the seas. And […]...
3. A Red Flower Your lips are like a southern lily red, Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night, In which the brown bee buries deep its head, When still the dawn’s a silver sea of light. Your lips betray the secret of your soul, The dark delicious essence that is you, A mystery of life, the flaming […]...
4. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
5. Flag of the Southern Cross Sons of Australia, be loyal and true to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Sing a loud song to be joyous and new to her – Fling out the flag of the Southern Cross! Stain’d with the blood of the diggers who died by it, Fling out the flag to the […]...
6. Sandhill People I TOOK away three pictures. One was a white gull forming a half-mile arch from the pines toward Waukegan. One was a whistle in the little sandhills, a bird crying either to the sunset gone or the dusk come. One was three spotted waterbirds, zigzagging, cutting scrolls and jags, writing a bird Sanscrit of wing […]...
7. The Saddhu Of Couva When sunset, a brass gong, Vibrate through Couva, Is then I see my soul, swiftly unsheathed, Like a white cattle bird growing more small Over the ocean of the evening canes, And I sit quiet, waiting for it to return Like a hog-cattle blistered with mud, Because, for my spirit, India is too far. And […]...
8. Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent […]...
9. Harvest Song I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled. But I am too chilled, and too fatigued to bind them. And I hunger. I crack a grain between my teeth. I do not taste it. I have been in the fields all day. My throat is dry. I hunger. My […]...
10. Sail Away Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, Only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our Pilgrimage to no country and to no end. In that shoreless ocean, At thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, Free as […]...
11. Dedication MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs – The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, and say I had rather bring a light to your clear eyes, Had rather hear you praise This bosomful of songs Than that […]...
12. Village Song HONEY, child, honey, child, whither are you going? Would you cast your jewels all to the breezes blowing? Would you leave the mother who on golden grain has fed you? Would you grieve the lover who is riding forth to wed you? Mother mine, to the wild forest I am going, Where upon the champa […]...
13. Long I Thought that Knowledge LONG I thought that knowledge alone would suffice me-O if I could but obtain knowledge! Then my lands engrossed me-Lands of the prairies, Ohio’s land, the southern savannas, engrossed me-For them I would live-I would be their orator; Then I met the examples of old and new heroes-I heard of warriors, sailors, and all dauntless […]...
14. Earth! my Likeness! EARTH! my likeness! Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, I now suspect that is not all; I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst forth; For an athlete is enamour’d of me-and I of him; But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible to […]...
15. With Trumpet and Drum With big tin trumpet and little red drum, Marching like soldiers, the children come! It ‘s this way and that way they circle and file – My! but that music of theirs is fine! This way and that way, and after a while They march straight into this heart of mine! A sturdy old heart, […]...
16. Philadelphia “Brother Square-Toes” Rewards and Fairies. If you’re off to Philadelphia in the morning, You mustn’t take my stories for a guide. There’s little left, indeed, of the city you will read of, And all the folk I write about have died. Now few will understand if you mention Talleyrand, Or remember what his cunning and […]...
17. Birds Of Passage Black shadows fall From the lindens tall, That lift aloft their massive wall Against the southern sky; And from the realms Of the shadowy elms A tide-like darkness overwhelm The fields that round us lie. But the night is fair, And everywhere A warm, soft vapor fills the air, And distant sounds seem near; And […]...
18. A Call DUSK its ash-grey blossoms sheds on violet skies, Over twilight mountains where the heart songs rise, Rise and fall and fade away from earth to air. Earth renews the music sweeter. Oh, come there. Come, acushla, come, as in ancient times Rings aloud the underland with faery chimes. Down the unseen ways as strays each […]...
19. Sonnet XXXI: Far O'er the Waves Far o’er the waves my lofty Bark shall glide, Love’s frequent sighs the flutt’ring sails shall swell, While to my native home I bid farewell, Hope’s snowy hand the burnis’d helm shall guide! Triton’s shall sport admidst the yielding tide, Myriads of Cupids round the prow shall dwell, And Venus, thron’d within her opal shell, […]...
20. The Fiddler Of Dooney When I play on my fiddle in Dooney. Folk dance like a wave of the sea; My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet, My brother in Mocharabuiee. I passed my brother and cousin: They read in their books of prayer; I read in my book of songs I bought at the Sligo fair. When we come […]...
21. Poor Devil! Well, I was tired of life; the silly folk, The tiresome noises, all the common things I loved once, crushed me with an iron yoke. I longed for the cool quiet and the dark, Under the common sod where louts and kings Lie down, serene, unheeding, careless, stark, Never to rise or move or feel […]...
22. Battle The war of words is done; The red-lipped cannon speak; The battle has begun. The web your speeches spun Tears and blood shall streak; The war of words is done. Smoke enshrouds the sun; Earth staggers at the shriek Of battle new begun. Poltroons and braggarts run: Woe to the poor, the meek! The war […]...
23. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
24. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
25. Music: An Ode WAS it light that spake from the darkness, Or music that shone from the word, When the night was enkindled with sound Of the sun or the first-born bird? Souls enthralled and entrammelled in bondage Of seasons that fall and rise, Bound fast round with the fetters of flesh, And blinded with light that dies, […]...
26. To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes, My heart would brim with dreams about the times When we bent down above the fading coals And talked of the dark folk who live in souls Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees; And of the wayward twilight companies Who sigh with mingled sorrow […]...
27. God's Vagabond A passion to be free Has ever mastered me; To none beneath the sun Will I bow down, not one Shall leash my liberty. My life’s my own; I rise With glory in my eyes; And my concept of hell Is to be forced to sell Myself to one who buys. With heart of rebel […]...
28. Companioned I walked to-day, but not alone, Adown a windy, sea-girt lea, For memory, spendthrift of her charm, Peopled the silent lands for me. The faces of old comradeship In golden youth were round my way, And in the keening wind I heard The songs of many an orient day. And to me called, from out […]...
29. A Love Song from the North Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha, Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha, Dreams of delight that are gone, When swift to my side came the feet of my lover With stars of the dusk and the dawn? I see the soft wings of the clouds on the river, And jewelled with raindrops […]...
30. Grace Before Song Lord God of heaven that with mercy dight Th’alternate prayer wheel of the night and light Eternal hath to thee, and in whose sight Our days as rain drops in the sea surge fall, As bright white drops upon a leaden sea Grant so my songs to this grey folk may be: As drops that […]...
31. The Winds Message There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark, Above the tossing of the pines, above the river’s flow; It stirred the boughs of giant gums and stalwart iron-bark; It drifted where the wild ducks played amid the swamps below; It brought a breath of mountain air from off the hills of […]...
32. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
33. To the Evening Star Star that bringest home the bee, And sett’st the weary labourer free! If any star shed peace, ’tis thou, That send ‘st it from above, Appearing when Heaven’s breath and brow Are sweet as hers we love. Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape’s odours rise, Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard, And songs […]...
34. The sun has burst the sky The sun has burst the sky Because I love you And the river its banks. The sea laps the great rocks Because I love you And takes no heed of the moon dragging it away And saying coldly ‘Constancy is not for you’. The blackbird fills the air Because I love you With spring and […]...
35. Songs Dawn coming in over the fields Of darkness takes me by surprise And I look up from my solitary road Pleased not to be alone, the birds Now choiring from the orange groves Huddling to the low hills. But sorry That this night has ended, a night In which you spoke of how little love […]...
36. The Plowboy AFTER the last red sunset glimmer, Black on the line of a low hill rise, Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined against the gray, Plowing in the dusk the last furrow. The turf had a gleam of brown, And smell of soil was in the air, And, cool and […]...
37. In A Breton Cemetery They sleep well here, These fisher-folk who passed their anxious days In fierce Atlantic ways; And found not there, Beneath the long curled wave, So quiet a grave. And they sleep well, These peasant-folk, who told their lives away, From day to market-day, As one should tell, With patient industry, Some sad old rosary. And […]...
38. Modern Love XXXVII: Along the Garden Terrace Along the garden terrace, under which A purple valley (lighted at its edge By smoky torch-flame on the long cloud-ledge Whereunder dropped the chariot), glimmers rich, A quiet company we pace, and wait The dinner-bell in prae-digestive calm. So sweet up violet banks the Southern balm Breathes round, we care not if the bell be […]...
39. My Heart Is Heavy My heart is heavy with many a song Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree, But I can never give you one My songs do not belong to me. Yet in the evening, in the dusk When moths go to and fro, In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen, Take it, no one […]...
40. Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like […]...