The Canonization

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1. Vanity My tangoing seemed to delight her; With me it was love at first sight. I mentioned That I was a writer: She asked me: “What is it you write?” “Oh, only best-sellers,” I told her. Their titles? . . . She shook her blonde head; The atmosphere seemed to grow colder: Not one of my […]...
2. Cool Tombs WHEN Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs, he forgot the copperheads and the assassin… in the dust, in the cool tombs. And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street, cash and collateral turned ashes… in the dust, in the cool tombs. Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a […]...
3. Song FOR her gait, if she be walking; Be she sitting, I desire her For her state’s sake; and admire her For her wit if she be talking; Gait and state and wit approve her; For which all and each I love her. Be she sullen, I commend her For a modest. Be she merry, For […]...
4. A Verseman's Apology Alas! I am only a rhymer, I don’t know the meaning of Art; But I learned in my little school primer To love Eugene Field and Bret Harte. I hailed Hoosier Ryley with pleasure, To John Hay I took off my hat; These fellows were right to my measure, And I’ve never gone higher than […]...
5. To the Reader of These Sonnets Into these Loves who but for Passion looks, At this first sight here let him lay them by And seek elsewhere, in turning other books, Which better may his labor satisfy. No far-fetch’d sigh shall ever wound my breast, Love from mine eye a tear shall never wring, Nor in Ah me’s my whining sonnets […]...
6. The Kitchen Chimney Builder, in building the little house, In every way you may please yourself; But please please me in the kitchen chimney: Don’t build me a chimney upon a shelf. However far you must go for bricks, Whatever they cost a-piece or a pound, But me enough for a full-length chimney, And build the chimney clear […]...
7. My Friend, My Friend Who will forgive me for the things I do? With no special legend of God to refer to, With my calm white pedigree, my yankee kin, I think it would be better to be a Jew. I forgive you for what you did not do. I am impossibly quilty. Unlike you, My Friend, I can […]...
8. Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live Lift not the painted veil which those who live Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there, And it but mimic all we would believe With colours idly spread, behind, lurk Fear And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave Their shadows, o’er the chasm, sightless and drear. I knew one who had lifted it he […]...
9. The Defective Record Cut the bank for the fill. Dump sand Pumped out of the river Into the old swale Killing whatever was There before-including Even the muskrats. Who did it? There’s the guy. Him in the blue shirt and Turquoise skullcap. Level it down For him to build a house On to build a House on to […]...
10. Sonnet (I) My God, where is that ancient heat towards thee, Wherewith whole showls of Martyrs once did burn, Besides their other flames? Doth Poetry Wear Venus livery? only serve her turn? Why are not Sonnets made of thee? and layes Upon thine Altar burnt? Cannot thy love Heighten a spirit to sound out thy praise As […]...
11. The Lawyers Know Too Much THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too much. They are chums of the books of old John Marshall. They know it all, what a dead hand wrote, A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling, The bones of the fingers a thin white ash. The lawyers know a dead man’s thoughts too well. In the heels of […]...
12. Elegy X: The Dream Image of her whom I love, more than she, Whose fair impression in my faithful heart Makes me her medal, and makes her love me, As Kings do coins, to which their stamps impart The value: go, and take my heart from hence, Which now is grown too great and good for me: Honours oppress […]...
13. Poetry For Supper ‘Listen, now, verse should be as natural As the small tuber that feeds on muck And grows slowly from obtuse soil To the white flower of immortal beauty.’ ‘Natural, hell! What was it Chaucer Said once about the long toil That goes like blood to the poem’s making? Leave it to nature and the verse […]...
14. Verse-Making Was Least of My Virtues Verse-making was least of my virtues: I viewed with despair Wealth that never yet was but might be all that verse-making were If the life would but lengthen to wish, let the mind be laid bare. So I said, “To do little is bad, to do nothing is worse” And made verse. Love-making, how simple […]...
15. Love, the Soul of Poetry WHen first Alexis did in Verse delight, His Muse in Low, but Graceful Numbers walk’t, And now and then a little Proudly stalk’t; But never aim’d at any noble Flight: The Herds, the Groves, the gentle purling Streams, Adorn’d his Song, and were his highest Theams. But Love these Thoughts, like Mists, did soon disperse, […]...
16. Over The Land Is April OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me, Hear my sonnets ring? Over the high, brown mountain, Love, do you hear me sing? By highway, love, and byway The snows succeed the rose. Over the high, brown […]...
17. Ernie Pyle I wish I had a simple style In writing verse, As in his prose had Ernie Pyle, So true and terse; Springing so forthright from the heart With guileless art. I wish I could put back a dram As Ernie could; I wish that I could cuss and damn As soldier should; And fain with […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. If Death be Good (Sappho LXXIV) If death be good, Why do the gods not die? If life be ill, Why do the gods still live? If love be naught, Why do the gods still love? If love be all, What should men do but love?...
20. The Triple Fool I am two fools, I know – For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry; But where’s that wiseman that would not be I, If she would not deny? Then, as th’ earths inward narrow crooked lanes Do purge sea waters fretful salt away, I thought, if I could draw my pains Through rhymes […]...
21. Profane Poet Oh how it would enable me To titillate my vanity If you should choose to label me A Poet of Profanity! For I’ve been known with vulgar slang To stoke the Sacred Fire, And even used a word like ‘hang’, Suggesting ire. Yea, I’ve been slyly told, although It savours of inanity, In print the […]...
22. Had I The Power That Have The Will HAD I the power that have the will, The enfeebled will – a modern curse – This book of mine should blossom still A perfect garden-ground of verse. White placid marble gods should keep Good watch in every shadowy lawn; And from clean, easy-breathing sleep The birds should waken me at dawn. – A fairy […]...
23. How to Leave the World that Worships should Let faxes butter-curl on dusty shelves. Let junkmail build its castles in the hush Of other people’s halls. Let deadlines burst And flash like glorious fireworks somewhere else. As hours go softly by, let others curse The roads where distant drivers queue like sheep. Let e-mails fly like panicked, tiny birds. Let phones, unanswered, ring […]...
24. To Emma Far away, where darkness reigneth, All my dreams of bliss are flown; Yet with love my gaze remaineth Fixed on one fair star alone. But, alas! that star so bright Sheds no lustre save by night. If in slumbers ending never, Gloomy death had sealed thine eyes, Thou hadst lived in memory ever Thou hadst […]...
25. Hymn 132 Holiness and grace. Titus 2:10-13. O let our lips and lives express The holy gospel we profess; So let our works and virtues shine, To prove the doctrine all divine. Thus shall we best proclaim abroad The honors of our Savior God; When the salvation reigns within, And grace subdues the power of sin. Our […]...
26. Sonnet XXIV: I Hear Some Say I hear some say, “This man is not in love.” “What? Can he love? A likely thing,” they say; “Read but his verse, and it will easily prove.” O judge not rashly, gentle Sir, I pray. Because I trifle loosely in this sort, As one that fain his sorrows would beguile, You now suppose me […]...
27. Sonnet XLI: Why Do I Speak of Joy Love’s Lunacy Why do I speak of joy, or write of love, When my heart is the very den of horror, And in my soul the pains of Hell I prove, With all his torments and infernal terror? What should I say? What yet remains to do? My brain is dry with weeping all too […]...
28. Elegy IX: The Autumnal No spring nor summer Beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnall face. Young beauties force our love, and that’s a rape, This doth but counsel, yet you cannot ‘scape. If ’twere a shame to love, here ’twere no shame, Affection here takes Reverence’s name. Were her first years the Golden Age; […]...
29. The Drunkard's Funeral “Yes,” said the sister with the little pinched face, The busy little sister with the funny little tract: – “This is the climax, the grand fifth act. There rides the proud, at the finish of his race. There goes the hearse, the mourners cry, The respectable hearse goes slowly by. The wife of the dead […]...
30. Sonnet XLV: Muses, Which Sadly Sit Muses, which sadly sit about my chair, Drown’d in the tears extorted by my lines, With heavy sighs whilst thus I break the air, Painting my passions in these sad designs, Since she disdains to bless my happy verse, The strong-built trophies to her living fame, Ever henceforth my bosom be your hearse, Wherein the […]...
31. Let me be to Thee as the circling bird Let me be to Thee as the circling bird, Or bat with tender and air-crisping wings That shapes in half-light his departing rings, From both of whom a changeless note is heard. I have found my music in a common word, Trying each pleasurable throat that sings And every praised sequence of sweet strings, And […]...
32. Corn Grinders O little mouse, why dost thou cry While merry stars laugh in the sky? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! Ah, who will ease my bitter pain? He went to seek a millet-grain In the rich farmer’s granary shed; They caught him in a baited snare, And slew my lover unaware: Alas! alas! my lord […]...
33. Dirge Without Music I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned. […]...
34. Pullman Porter The porter in the Pullman car Was charming, as they sometimes are. He scanned my baggage tags: “Are you The man who wrote of Lady Lou?” When I said “yes” he made a fuss – Oh, he was most assiduous; And I was pleased to think that he Enjoyed my brand of poetry. He was […]...
35. The Thanksgiving Oh King of grief! (a title strange, yet true, To thee of all kings only due) Oh King of wounds! how shall I grieve for thee, Who in all grief preventest me? Shall I weep blood? why thou has wept such store That all thy body was one door. Shall I be scourged, flouted, boxed, […]...
36. FROM 'THE SORROWS OF YOUNG WERTHER.&#039 [Prefixed to the second edition.] EV’RY youth for love’s sweet portion sighs, Ev’ry maiden sighs to win man’s love; Why, alas! should bitter pain arise From the noblest passion that we prove? Thou, kind soul, bewailest, lov’st him well, From disgrace his memory’s saved by thee; Lo, his spirit signs from out its cell: BE […]...
37. Bitter-Sweet Ah, my dear angry Lord, Since thou dost love, yet strike; Cast down, yet help afford; Sure I will do the like. I will complain, yet praise; I will bewail, approve; And all my sour-sweet days I will lament and love....
38. Come, Let Us Find Come, let us find a cottage, love, That’s green for half a mile around; To laugh at every grumbling bee, Whose sweetest blossom’s not yet found. Where many a bird shall sing for you, And in your garden build its nest: They’ll sing for you as though their eggs Were lying in your breast, My […]...
39. You Can't Can Love I don’t know how the fishes feel, but I can’t help thinking it odd, That a gay young flapper of a female eel should fall in love with a cod. Yet – that’s exactly what she did and it only goes to prove, That’ what evr you do you can’t put the lid on that […]...
40. Hymn 6 Triumph over death. Job 19:25-27. Great God, I own thy sentence just, And nature must decay; I yield my body to the dust, To dwell with fellow clay. Yet faith may triumph o’er the grave, And trample on the tombs My Jesus, my Redeemer, lives; My God, my Savior, comes. The mighty Conqueror shall appear […]...