Air And Angels

Related poetry:

1. Two or three angels Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually. And the angels were puzzled To know why the people went thus, And why they stayed so long within....
2. God permits industrious Angels God permits industrious Angels Afternoons to play I met one forgot my Schoolmates All for Him straightway God calls home the Angels promptly At the Setting Sun I missed mine how dreary Marbles After playing Crown!...
3. Angels, in the early morning Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping plucking smiling flying Do the Buds to them belong? Angels, when the sun is hottest May be seen the sands among, Stooping plucking sighing flying Parched the flowers they bear along....
4. Wert Thou but ill that I might show thee Wert Thou but ill that I might show thee How long a Day I could endure Though thine attention stop not on me Nor the least signal, Me assure Wert Thou but Stranger in ungracious country And Mine the Door Thou paused at, for a passing bounty No More Accused wert Thou and Myself Tribunal […]...
5. 533. Song-Forlorn, my love, no comfort here FORLORN, my Love, no comfort near, Far, far from thee, I wander here; Far, far from thee, the fate severe, At which I most repine, Love. Chorus.-O wert thou, Love, but near me! But near, near, near me, How kindly thou wouldst cheer me, And mingle sighs with mine, Love. Around me scowls a wintry […]...
6. Angels Of The Love Affair “Angels of the love affair, do you know that other, The dark one, that other me?” 1. ANGEL OF FIRE AND GENITALS Angel of fire and genitals, do you know slime, That green mama who first forced me to sing, Who put me first in the latrine, that pantomime Of brown where I was beggar […]...
7. On My Birthday, July 21 I, MY dear, was born to-day So all my jolly comrades say: They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know That I was born to pain and woe; To thy denial, to thy scorn, Better I had ne’er been born: I wish to die, even […]...
8. A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany In what torn ship soever I embark, That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark; What sea soever swallow me, that flood Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood; Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes, Which, though they turn away […]...
9. The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow through the Groves a wand’ring Muse And fain’d Idea’s for my pleasures chuse Why shou’d it in my Pen be held a fault Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought Whilst Lamia to […]...
10. Love's Deity I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her […]...
11. 387. Epigram on Miss Fontenelle SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to Nature, Thou art acting but thyself. Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Spurning Nature, torturing art; Loves and Graces all rejected, Then indeed thou’d’st act a part....
12. The Ecstasy Where, like a pillow on a bed A pregnant bank swell’d up to rest The violet’s reclining head, Sat we two, one another’s best. Our hands were firmly cemented With a fast balm, which thence did spring; Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread Our eyes upon one double string; So to’intergraft our hands, as yet […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. Consorting With Angels I was tired of being a woman, Tired of the spoons and the post, Tired of my mouth and my breasts, Tired of the cosmetics and the silks. There were still men who sat at my table, Circled around the bowl I offered up. The bowl was filled with purple grapes And the flies hovered […]...
15. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing. Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said: […]...
16. Poem 93 TO whom his mother closely smiling sayd, Twixt earnest and twixt game: See thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made, If thou regard the same. And yet thou suffrest neyther gods in sky, Nor men in earth to rest: But when thou art disposed cruelly, Theyr sleepe thou doost molest. Then eyther change thy cruelty, […]...
17. WALKING WITH ANGELS for Lindsay AIDS Knows the condom wrapped penetration Of strangers and lovers, deep inside Only a tear away from risk Knows bare minimum t-cell level counts, Replacing intoxicating cocktails With jagged little pills Knows how to avoid a cure thanks to war How to keep pharmaceutical corporations And doctors in business AIDS Knows the weight […]...
18. Our Guardian Angels and Their Children Where a river roars in rapids And doves in maples fret, Where peace has decked the pastures Our guardian angels met. Long they had sought each other In God’s mysterious name, Had climbed the solemn chaos tides Alone, with hope aflame: Amid the demon deeps had wound By many a fearful way. As they beheld […]...
19. LEOPOLD, DUKE OF BRUNSWICK LEOPOLD, DUKE OF BRUNSWICK. [Written on the occasion of the death, by drowning, Of the Prince.] THOU wert forcibly seized by the hoary lord of the river, Holding thee, ever he shares with thee his streaming domain, Calmly sleepest thou near his urn as it silently trickles, Till thou to action art roused, waked by […]...
20. Sonnet XLIV: Whilst Thus My Pen Whilst thus my pen strives to eternize thee, Age rules my lines with wrinkles in my face, Where in the map of all my misery Is modell’d out the world of my disgrace. Whilst, in despite of tyrannizing times, Medea-like, I make thee young again, Proudly thou scorn’st my world-outwearing rhymes And murtherest virtue with […]...
21. If you refuse me once, and think again If you refuse me once, and think again, I will complain. You are deceiv’d, love is no work of art, It must be got and born, Not made and worn, By every one that hath a heart. Or do you think they more than once can die, Whom you deny? Who tell you of a […]...
22. The Dream Dear love, for nothing less than thee Would I have broke this happy dream; It was a theme For reason, much too strong for phantasy: Therefore thou waked’st me wisely; yet My dream thou brok’st not, but continued’st it. Thou art so truth that thoughts of thee suffice To make dreams truths, and fables histories. […]...
23. Individuality Ah yes, I love you, and with all my heart; Just as a weaker woman loves her own, Better than I love my beloved art, Which, until you came, reigned royally, alone, My king, my master. Since I saw your face I have dethroned it, and you hold that place. I am as weak as […]...
24. Sonnet XIII: Letters and Lines To the Shadow Letters and lines we see are soon defac’d, Metals do waste and fret with canker’s rust, The diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colors with foul stains disgrac’d; Paper and ink can paint but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight; And if with tears I […]...
25. Moonless darkness stands between Moonless darkness stands between. Past, the Past, no more be seen! But the Bethlehem-star may lead me To the sight of Him Who freed me From the self that I have been. Make me pure, Lord: Thou art holy; Make me meek, Lord: Thou wert lowly; Now beginning, and alway: Now begin, on Christmas day....
26. Our Hands Have Met Our hands have met, our lips have met Our souls – who knows when the wind blows How light souls drift mid longings set, If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was not long ago? Thou wert not silent then, but told Sweet secrets dear – I drew so near Thy shamefaced cheeks […]...
27. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
28. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
29. 555. Song-O wert thou in the cauld blast O WERT thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee; Or did Misfortune’s bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a’, to share it a’. Or were I in the […]...
30. Oh Wert Thou In The Cauld Blast Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee; Or did misfortune’s bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a’, to share it a’. Or were I in the […]...
31. A Night-Rain in Summer Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair, And fill the room, as it fills the night, With the breath of the rain’s sweet might. Hark! the burthen, swift and prone! And how the odorous limes are blown! Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps. Not a […]...
32. On My First Son Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy. Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. Oh, could I lose all father now! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? […]...
33. Spirit Be still, thou unregenerate part, Disturb no more my settled heart, For I have vow’d (and so will do) Thee as a foe still to pursue, And combat with thee will and must Until I see thee laid in th’ dust. Sister we are, yea twins we be, Yet deadly feud ‘twixt thee and me, […]...
34. Love's Usury For every hour that thou wilt spare me now I will allow, Usurious God of Love, twenty to thee, When with my brown my gray hairs equal be; Till then, Love, let my body reign, and let Me travel, sojourn, snatch, plot, have, forget, Resume my last year’s relic: think that yet We’had never met. […]...
35. Sonnet LXXXII I grant thou wert not married to my Muse And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
36. Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse I grant thou wert not married to my Muse, And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book. Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
37. Youth And Age Verse, a Breeze ‘mid blossoms straying, Where HOPE clung feeding, like a bee Both were mine! Life went a-maying With NATURE, HOPE, and POESY, [Image][Image]When I was young! When I was young? Ah, woful WHEN! Ah! for the Change ‘twixt Now and Then! This breathing House not built with hands, This body that does me […]...
38. Footsteps of Angels When the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful firelight Dance upon the parlor wall; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the […]...
39. Opifex As I was carving images from clouds, And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries: “Forbear!” and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds. “Forbear!” Thou hast no tools wherewith to essay The delicate waves of that elusive grain: Wouldst have due recompense of vulgar pain? The […]...
40. Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain Thou leaden brain, which censur’st what I write, And say’st my lines be dull and do not move, I marvel not thou feel’st not my delight, Which never felt’st my fiery touch of love. But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv’d, Whose stomach unto gall hath turn’d thy food, Whose senses, like poor […]...