Inexpensive Progress

Related poetry:

1. The Progress of Poetry The Farmer’s Goose, who in the Stubble, Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble; Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still, Can scarce get o’er the Barn-Door Sill: And hardly waddles forth, to cool Her Belly in the neighb’ring Pool: Nor loudly cackles at the Door; For Cackling shews the Goose is poor. But when she […]...
2. Progress The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples’ eyes; ВЂ˜The old law’, they said, ‘is wholly come to naught! Behold the new world rise! ’ ВЂ˜Was it’, the Lord then said, ‘with scorn ye saw The old law observed by Scribes and Pharisees? I say unto you, see […]...
3. The Prince's Progress (excerpt) “Too late for love, too late for joy, Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch Died without a mate. The enchanted princess in her tower Slept, died, behind the grate; Her heart was starving all this while You made it […]...
4. The Progress Of Wit DIVERTING in extreme there is a play, Which oft resumes its fascinating sway; Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or sour; By night or day: ’tis sweet at any hour. The frolick, ev’ry where is known to fame; Conjecture if you can, and tells its name. THIS play’s chief charm to husbands is unknown; ‘Tis […]...
5. 242. The Poet's Progress THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, The hornèd bull, tremendous, spurns the ground; The lordly lion has enough and more, The forest trembles at his very roar; Thou giv’st the ass his hide, the snail his shell, The puny wasp, victorious, […]...
6. The Progress of Poesy A Pindaric Ode Awake, Aeolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon’s harmonious springs A thousand rills their mazy progress take: The laughing flowers that round them blow Drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of Music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Thro’ verdant […]...
7. "Shouting" for a Camel It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator, Who was going down the township just to make a bit o’ chink, Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator, And the Afghan said he’d lend it if he’d stand the beast a drink. Yes, the only price he asked him was to […]...
8. Tiger At noon thepaper tigers roar Miroslav Holub The paper tigers roar at noon; The sun is hot, the sun is high. They roar in chorus, not in tune, Their plaintive, savage hunting cry. O, when you hear them, stop your ears And clench your lids and bite your tongue. The harmless paper tiger bears Strong […]...
9. No, You Be A Lone Eagle I find it very hard to be fair-minded About people who go around being air-minded. I just can’t see any fun In soaring up up up into the sun When the chances are still a fresh cool orchid to a paper geranium That you’ll unsoar down down down onto your (to you) invaluable Cranium. I […]...
10. In Progress Ten years ago it seemed impossible That she should ever grow so calm as this, With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well. Slow-speaking when she had some fact to tell, Silent with long-unbroken silences, Centered in self yet not unpleased to please, Gravely monotonous like a passing bell. […]...
11. Progress Let there be many windows to your soul, That all the glory of the universe May beautify it. Not the narrow pane Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays That shine from countless sources. Tear away The blinds of superstition; let the light Pour through fair windows broad as truth itself And high […]...
12. Life's Progress How gayly is at first begun Our Life’s uncertain Race! Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun, With which we just set out to run Enlightens all the Place. How smiling the World’s Prospect lies How tempting to go through! Not Canaan to the Prophet’s Eyes, From Pisgah with a sweet Surprize, Did more inviting shew. […]...
13. The Progress of Spring THE groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould, Fair Spring slides hither o’er the Southern sea, Wavers on her thin stem the snowdrop cold That trembles not to kisses of the bee: Come Spring, for now from all the dripping eaves The spear of ice has wept itself away, And hour by hour unfolding woodbine […]...
14. Phillis, Or, the Progress of Love Desponding Phillis was endu’d With ev’ry Talent of a Prude, She trembled when a Man drew near; Salute her, and she turn’d her Ear: If o’er against her you were plac’t She durst not look above your Wa[i]st; She’d rather take you to her Bed Than let you see her dress her Head; In Church […]...
15. The Cottage Hospital At the end of a long-walled garden in a red provincial town, A brick path led to a mulberry – scanty grass at its feet. I lay under blackening branches where the mulberry leaves hung down Sheltering ruby fruit globes from a Sunday-tea-time heat. Apple and plum espaliers basked upon bricks of brown; The air […]...
16. Elegy XVIII: Love's Progress Who ever loves, if he do not propose The right true end of love, he’s one that goes To sea for nothing but to make him sick. Love is a bear-whelp born: if we o’erlick Our love, and force it new strange shapes to take, We err, and of a lump a monster make. Were […]...
17. I Cannot be Known I cannot be known Better than you know me Your eyes in which we sleep We together Have made for my man’s gleam A better fate than for the common nights Your eyes in which I travel Have given to signs along the roads A meaning alien to the earth In your eyes who reveal […]...
18. Repetitions THEY are crying salt tears Over the beautiful beloved body Of Inez Milholland, Because they are glad she lived, Because she loved open-armed, Throwing love for a cheap thing Belonging to everybody- Cheap as sunlight, And morning air....
19. Real Estate News ARMOUR AVENUE was the name of this street and door signs on empty houses read “The Silver Dollar,” “Swede Annie” and the Christian names of madams such as “Myrtle” and “Jenny.” Scrap iron, rags and bottles fill the front rooms hither and yon and signs in Yiddish say Abe Kaplan & Co. are running junk […]...
20. In Defence of the Bush So you’re back from up the country, Mister Lawson, where you went, And you’re cursing all the business in a bitter discontent; Well, we grieve to disappoint you, and it makes us sad to hear That it wasn’t cool and shady and there wasn’t whips of beer, And the looney bullock snorted when you first […]...
21. 468. Song-On the Seas and far away HOW can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad; How can I the thought forego- He’s on the seas to meet the foe? Let me wander, let me rove, Still my heart is with my love; Nightly dreams, and thoughts by day, Are with him that’s far away. Chorus.-On the seas […]...
22. Provide, Provide The witch that came (the withered hag) To wash the steps with pail and rag, Was once the beauty Abishag, The picture pride of Hollywood. Too many fall from great and good For you to doubt the likelihood. Die early and avoid the fate. Or if predestined to die late, Make up your mind to […]...
23. A Rhyme About an Electrical Advertising Sign I LOOK on the specious electrical light Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white, Wickedly red or malignantly green Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen. Showing, while millions of souls hurry on, The virtues of collars, from sunset till dawn, By dart or by tumble of whirl within whirl, Starting new fads for the shame-weary […]...
24. Aspens All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top. Out of the blacksmith’s cavern comes the ringing Of hammer, shoe and anvil; out of the inn The clink, the hum, the […]...
25. The Letters I wonder if You keep the letters still, Spidery and blotted Now, like old days Just withered away. I remember sunlight bursts That inspired Those winged words, The spirit of spaces Flying paper aeroplanes of love. I picture us then- A perfect summer’s night Calligraphy of stars Burning Indian fire And I wonder if You […]...
26. Except to Heaven, she is nought Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown. Except for winds provincial. Except by Butterflies Unnoticed as a single dew That on the Acre lies. The smallest Housewife in the grass, Yet take her from the Lawn And somebody has lost the face That […]...
27. OPEN LETTER TO ANDY C Sorry, Writer in Residence on the Great North Run The last thing I’d ever do is listen to your spin “You risk losing potential allies in your war against the philistines, Astley, Armitage, Duffy, Sansom, unashamedly provincial, Defiantly Un-Oxbridge, not the enemy!” Sorry, Andy, arse-licking’s not to my taste. I always thought it wasn’t yours, […]...
28. Hatteras Calling Southeast, and storm, and every weathervane Shivers and moans upon its dripping pin, Ragged on chimneys the cloud whips, the rain Howls at the flues and windows to get in, The golden rooster claps his golden wings And from the Baptist Chapel shrieks no more, The golden arrow in the southeast sings And hears on […]...
29. 45 Mercy Street In my dream, Drilling into the marrow Of my entire bone, My real dream, I’m walking up and down Beacon Hill Searching for a street sign Namely MERCY STREET. Not there. I try the Back Bay. Not there. Not there. And yet I know the number. 45 Mercy Street. I know the stained-glass window Of […]...
30. The Last Post The bugler sent a call of high romance – “Lights out! Lights out!” to the deserted square. On the thin brazen notes he threw a prayer, “God, if it’s this for me next time in France… O spare the phantom bugle as I lie Dead in the gas and smoke and roar of guns, Dead […]...
31. Immolated Children of my happier prime, When One yet lived with me, and threw Her rainbow over life and time, Even Hope, my bride, and mother to you! O, nurtured in sweet pastoral air, And fed on flowers and light and dew Of morning meadows – spare, ah, spare Reproach; spare, and upbraid me not That, […]...
32. Films I HAVE kept all, not one is thrown away, not one given to the ragman, not one thrust in a corner with a “P-f-f.” The red ones and the blue, the long ones in stripes, and each of the little black and white checkered ones. Keep them: I tell my heart: keep them another year, […]...
33. Threnody Lilacs blossom just as sweet Now my heart is shattered. If I bowled it down the street, Who’s to say it mattered? If there’s one that rode away What would I be missing? Lips that taste of tears, they say, Are the best for kissing. Eyes that watch the morning star Seem a little brighter; […]...
34. Money Quarterly, is it, money reproaches me: ‘Why do you let me lie here wastefully? I am all you never had of goods and sex, You could get them still by writing a few cheques.’ So I look at others, what they do with theirs: They certainly don’t keep it upstairs. By now they’ve a second […]...
35. Statistics NAPOLEON shifted, Restless in the old sarcophagus And murmured to a watchguard: “Who goes there?” “Twenty-one million men, Soldiers, armies, guns, Twenty-one million Afoot, horseback, In the air, Under the sea.” And Napoleon turned to his sleep: “It is not my world answering; It is some dreamer who knows not The world I marched in […]...
36. Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many An evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of Bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth Had come to her over the young shoots of rice. Her pet name is known here […]...
37. Old Ironsides Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon’s roar; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes’ blood, […]...
38. To Jośe Marίa Palacio Palacio, good friend, Is spring there Showing itself on branches of black poplars By the roads and river? On the steeps Of the high Duero, spring is late, But so soft and lovely when it comes! Are there a few new leaves On the old elms? The acacias must still be bare, And the mountain […]...
39. All Roads That Lead To God Are Good All roads that lead to God are good. What matters it, your faith, or mine? Both centre at the goal divine Of love’s eternal Brotherhood. The kindly life in house or street – The life of prayer and mystic rite – The student’s search for truth and light – These paths at one great Junction […]...
40. Hunted A few grains of dust more or less On ancient shoulders Locks of weakness on weary foreheads This theatre of honey and faded roses Where incalcuable flies Reply to the black signs that misery makes to them Despairing girders of a bridge Thrown across space Thrown across every street and every house Heavy wandering madnesses […]...