Melancholy

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1. Hence, All You Vain Delights from the Nice Valour Hence, all you vain delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly: There’s nought in this life sweet, If man were wise to see’t, But only melancholy, O sweetest melancholy! Welcome, folded arms, and fixed eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A look that’s fastened to the ground, A tongue chained […]...
2. Melancholly Hence, hence, all you vaine delights, As short as are the nights Wherein you spend your folly: Ther’s nought in this life sweete, If men were wise to see’te But only Melancholly: O sweetest Melancholly! Welcome folded armes and fixed eyes, A sigh that piercing mortifies, A looke that’s fastned to the ground, A tongue […]...
3. Away, Melancholy Away, melancholy, Away with it, let it go. Are not the trees green, The earth as green? Does not the wind blow, Fire leap and the rivers flow? Away melancholy. The ant is busy He carrieth his meat, All things hurry To be eaten or eat. Away, melancholy. Man, too, hurries, Eats, couples, buries, He […]...
4. Ode On Melancholy No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine; Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine; Make not your rosary of yew-berries, Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries; […]...
5. The Pleasures of Melancholy Mother of musings, Contemplation sage, Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock Of Teneriffe; ‘mid the tempestuous night, On which, in calmest meditation held, Thou hear’st with howling winds the beating rain And drifting hail descend; or if the skies Unclouded shine, and through the blue serene Pale Cynthia rolls her silver-axled car, Whence gazing […]...
6. Ardelia to Melancholy At last, my old inveterate foe, No opposition shalt thou know. Since I by struggling, can obtain Nothing, but encrease of pain, I will att last, no more do soe, Tho’ I confesse, I have apply’d Sweet mirth, and musick, and have try’d A thousand other arts beside, To drive thee from my darken’d breast, […]...
7. Ode to Melancholy SORC’RESS of the Cave profound! Hence, with thy pale, and meagre train, Nor dare my roseate bow’r profane, Where light-heel’d mirth despotic reigns, Slightly bound in feath’ry chains, And scatt’ring blisses round. Hence, to thy native Chaos­where Nurs’d by thy haggard Dam, DESPAIR, Shackled by thy numbing spell, Mis’ry’s pallid children dwell; Where, brooding o’er […]...
8. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
9. SONNET OF AUTUMN THEY say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes: “Why dost thou love me so, strange lover mine?” Be sweet, be still! My heart and soul despise All save that antique brute-like faith of thine; And will not bare the secret of their shame To thee whose hand soothes me to slumbers long, Nor their […]...
10. Haunts THERE are places I go when I am strong. One is a marsh pool where I used to go with a long-ear hound-dog. One is a wild crabapple tree; I was there a moonlight night with a girl. The dog is gone; the girl is gone; I go to these places when there is no […]...
11. Having it Out with Melancholy 1FROM THE NURSERY When I was born, you waited Behind a pile of linen in the nursery, And when we were alone, you lay down On top of me, pressing The bile of desolation into every pore. And from that day on Everything under the sun and moon Made me sad even the yellow Wooden […]...
12. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
13. Dogheads AMONG the grassroots In the moonlight, who comes circling, red tongues and high noses? Is one of ’em Buck and one of ’em White Fang? In the moonlight, who are they, cross-legged, telling their stories over and over? Is one of ’em Martin Eden and one of ’em Larsen the Wolf? Let an epitaph read: […]...
14. Melancholy To Laura Laura! a sunrise seems to break Where’er thy happy looks may glow. Joy sheds its roses o’er thy cheek, Thy tears themselves do but bespeak The rapture whence they flow; Blest youth to whom those tears are given The tears that change his earth to heaven; His best reward those melting eyes For him new […]...
15. Moles Under the leaves, under The first loose Levels of earth They’re there quick As beetles, blind As bats, shy As hares but seen Less than these Traveling Among the pale girders Of appleroot, Rockshelf, nests Of insects and black Pastures of bulbs Peppery and packed full Of the sweetest food: Spring flowers. Field after field […]...
16. 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: […]...
17. When I Came Last to Ludlow When I came last to Ludlow Amidst the moonlight pale, Two friends kept step beside me, Two honest friends and hale. Now Dick lies long in the churchyard, And Ned lies long in jail, And I come home to Ludlow Amidst the moonlight pale....
18. Night In The Old Home When the wasting embers redden the chimney-breast, And Life’s bare pathway looms like a desert track to me, And from hall and parlour the living have gone to their rest, My perished people who housed them here come back to me. They come and seat them around in their mouldy places, Now and then bending […]...
19. Dream Song 63: Bats have no bankers and they do not drink Bats have no bankers and they do not drink And cannot be arrested and pay no tax And, in general, bats have it made. Henry for joining the human race is bats, Known to be so, by few them who think, Out of the cave. Instead of the cave! ah lovely-chilly, dark, Ur-moist his cousins […]...
20. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
21. The Great Fires Love is apart from all things. Desire and excitement are nothing beside it. It is not the body that finds love. What leads us there is the body. What is not love provokes it. What is not love quenches it. Love lays hold of everything we know. The passions which are called love Also change […]...
22. Abou Ben Adhem Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold:- Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room […]...
23. An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny Blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny They are small, and the fountain is in France Where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. You used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper […]...
24. A Dream, After Reading Dante's Episode Of Paolo And Francesca As Hermes once took to his feathers light, When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept, So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes; And seeing it asleep, so fled away, Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies, Nor unto […]...
25. Three Spring Notations on Bipeds 1THE DOWN drop of the blackbird, The wing catch of arrested flight, The stop midway and then off: off for triangles, circles, loops of new hieroglyphs- This is April’s way: a woman: “O yes, I’m here again and your heart knows I was coming.” 2White pigeons rush at the sun, A marathon of wing feats […]...
26. An Evening in the Mountains After rain the empty mountain Stands autumnal in the evening, Moonlight in its groves of pine, Stones of crystal in its brooks. Bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home, Lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat And what does it matter that springtime has gone, While you are here, O Prince of Friends?...
27. Clear, with Light, Variable Winds The fountain bent and straightened itself In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall white lily, Under the eye of the golden moon. From a stone seat, Beneath a blossoming lime, The man watched it. And the spray pattered On the dim grass at his feet. The fountain tossed […]...
28. Poppies She loves blood-red poppies for a garden to walk in. In a loose white gown she walks and a new child tugs at cords in her body. Her head to the west at evening when the dew is creeping, A shudder of gladness runs in her bones and torsal fiber: She loves blood-red poppies for […]...
29. Bat At evening, sitting on this terrace, When the sun from the west, beyond Pisa, beyond the mountains of Carrara Departs, and the world is taken by surprise… When the tired flower of Florence is in gloom beneath the glowing Brown hills surrounding… When under the arches of the Ponte Vecchio A green light enters against […]...
30. The Song Of Princess Zeb-Un-Nissa In Praise Of Her Own Beauty WHEN from my cheek I lift my veil, The roses turn with envy pale, And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain, Send forth their fragrance like a wail. Or if perchance one perfumed tress Be lowered to the wind’s caress, The honeyed hyacinths complain, And languish in a sweet distress. And, when I pause, […]...
31. In autumn moonlight, when the white air wan In autumn moonlight, when the white air wan Is fragrant in the wake of summer hence, ‘Tis sweet to sit entranced, and muse thereon In melancholy and godlike indolence: When the proud spirit, lull’d by mortal prime To fond pretence of immortality, Vieweth all moments from the birth of time, All things whate’er have been […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Shakespeare Would that in body and spirit Shakespeare came Visible emperor of the deeds of Time, With Justice still the genius of his rhyme, Giving each man his due, each passion grace, Impartial as the rain from Heaven’s face Or sunshine from the heaven-enthroned sun. Sweet Swan of Avon, come to us again. Teach us to […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. The New Poetry Handbook 1 If a man understands a poem, he shall have troubles. 2 If a man lives with a poem, he shall die lonely. 3 If a man lives with two poems, he shall be unfaithful to one. 4 If a man conceives of a poem, he shall have one less child. 5 If a man […]...
36. Moonlight, summer moonlight ‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, All soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere, But most where trees are sending Their breezy boughs on high, Or stooping low are lending A shelter from the sky. And there in those wild bowers A lovely form is laid; Green grass and dew-steeped […]...
37. Morning Joy At night the wide and level stretch of wold, Which at high noon had basked in quiet gold, Far as the eye could see was ghostly white; Dark was the night save for the snow’s weird light. I drew the shades far down, crept into bed; Hearing the cold wind moaning overhead Through the sad […]...
38. My Springs In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know Two springs that with unbroken flow Forever pour their lucent streams Into my soul’s far Lake of Dreams. Not larger than two eyes, they lie Beneath the many-changing sky And mirror all of life and time, Serene and dainty pantomime. Shot through with lights of […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Plea Secrets, you said, would hold us two apart; You’d have me know of you your least transgression, And so the intimate places of your heart, Kneeling, you bared to me, as in confession. Softly you told of loves that went before- Of clinging arms, of kisses gladly given; Luxuriously clean of heart once more, You […]...