Lines On The Mermaid Tavern

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1. Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall Oh down at the tavern The children are singing Around their round table And around me still. Did you hear what it said? I only said How there is a pewter urn Pinned to the tavern wall, As old as old is able To be and be there still. I said, the poets are tere […]...
2. A Man Young And Old: III. The Mermaid A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown....
3. Mermaid, Dragon, Fiend In my childhood rumors ran Of a world beyond our door- Terrors to the life of man That the highroad held in store. Of mermaids’ doleful game In deep water I heard tell, Of lofty dragons belching flame, Of the hornèd fiend of Hell. Tales like these were too absurd For my laughter-loving ear: Soon […]...
4. The Mermaid I Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl, On a throne? II I would be a mermaid fair; I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair; And […]...
5. The Tavern Whenever I go by there nowadays And look at the rank weeds and the strange grass, The torn blue curtains and the broken glass, I seem to be afraid of the old place; And something stiffens up and down my face, For all the world as if I saw the ghost Of old Ham Amory, […]...
6. 186. Lines on the Fall of Fyers AMONG the heathy hills and ragged woods The roaring Fyers pours his mossy floods; Till full he dashes on the rocky mounds, Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, his stream resounds. As high in air the bursting torrents flow, As deep recoiling surges foam below, Prone down the rock the whitening sheet descends, And viewles Echo’s […]...
7. Tavern I’ll keep a little tavern Below the high hill’s crest, Wherein all grey-eyed people May set them down and rest. There shall be plates a-plenty, And mugs to melt the chill Of all the grey-eyed people Who happen up the hill. There sound will sleep the traveller, And dream his journey’s end, But I will […]...
8. THE TAVERN IN the tavern of my heart Many a one has sat before, Drunk red wine and sung a stave, And, departing, come no more. When the night was cold without, And the ravens croaked of storm, They have sat them at my hearth, Telling me my house was warm. As the lute and cup went […]...
9. 502. Lines to John Syme, Esq., with a dozen of Porter O HAD the malt thy strength of mind, Or hops the flavour of thy wit, ‘Twere drink for first of human kind, A gift that e’en for Syme were fit. JERUSALEM TAVERN, DUMFRIES....
10. At the Tavern A lilt and a swing, And a ditty to sing, Or ever the night grow old; The wine is within, And I’m sure t’were a sin For a soldier to choose to be cold, my dear, For a soldier to choose to be cold. We’re right for a spell, But the fever is well, No […]...
11. Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod, With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod; With those who, scattered far, perchance deplore, Like me, the happy scenes they knew before: Oh! as I trace again […]...
12. ON FIRST READING JOHN GOODBY'S 'IRISH POETRY SINCE 1950&#039 Barbarous insult to Yeats’ memory and Claudel’s Allen, thank God you are dead, you who breathed the air of Apollinaire, Ghost of Reverdy bear witness to the mendacity of his clamour, Hart Crane, rise from the estuary of the great river you drowned in, John Clare, rise from your country churchyard grave, Gray, from your […]...
13. Lines With many a pause and oft reverted eye I climb the Coomb’s ascent: sweet songsters near Warble in shade their wild-wood melody: Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear. Up scour the startling stragglers of the flock That on green plots o’er precipices browze: From the deep fissures of the naked rock The Yew-tree […]...
14. Death Of The Kapowsin Tavern I can’t ridge it back again from char. Not one board left. Only ash a cat explores And shattered glass smoked black and strung About from the explosion I believe In the reports. The white school up for sale For years, most homes abandoned to the rocks Of passing boys the fire, helped by wind […]...
15. Lines Written in Kensington Gardens In this lone, open glade I lie, Screen’d by deep boughs on either hand; And at its end, to stay the eye, Those black-crown’d, red-boled pine-trees stand! Birds here make song, each bird has his, Across the girdling city’s hum. How green under the boughs it is! How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come! Sometimes a […]...
16. Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world’s a song; “She’s far,” it sings me, “but fair,” it rings me, “Quiet,” it laughs, “and strong!” Oh! spite of the miles and years between us, Spite of your chosen part, I do remember; and I go With laughter in my heart. So […]...
17. Lines Written in the Bay of Lerici She left me at the silent time When the moon had ceas’d to climb The azure path of Heaven’s steep, And like an albatross asleep, Balanc’d on her wings of light, Hover’d in the purple night, Ere she sought her ocean nest In the chambers of the West. She left me, and I stay’d alone […]...
18. Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty One way to be very happy is to be very rich For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch. And yet at the same time People don’t mind if you only tip them a dime, Because it’s very funny But somehow if you’re rich enough you can get away […]...
19. Dave Lilly There’s a brook on the side of Greylock that used To be full of trout, But there’s nothing there now but minnows; they say it is all fished Out. I fished there many a Summer day some twenty years ago, And I never quit without getting a mess of a dozen or so. There was […]...
20. Mine by the Right of the White Election! Mine by the Right of the White Election! Mine by the Royal Seal! Mine by the Sign in the Scarlet prison Bars cannot conceal! Mine here in Vision and in Veto! Mine by the Grave’s Repeal Tilted Confirmed Delirious Charter! Mine long as Ages steal!...
21. Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding Love is enough: it grew up without heeding In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure, And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding, As the morning and evening passed over its treasure. And what do ye say […]...
22. The Red Flower In the pleasant time of Pentecost, By the little river Kyll, I followed the angler’s winding path Or waded the stream at will, And the friendly fertile German land Lay round me green and still. But all day long on the eastern bank Of the river cool and clear, Where the curving track of the […]...
23. Lines WHEN the lamp is shatter’d, The light in the dust lies dead; When the cloud is scatter’d, The rainbow’s glory is shed; When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remember’d not When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot. As music and splendour Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart’s […]...
24. Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie Those lines that I before have writ do lie, Even those that said I could not love you dearer; Yet then my judgment knew no reason why My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer, But reckoning Time, whose millioned accidents Creep in ‘twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Tan sacred beauty, blunt the […]...
25. L'Escargot D'Or O Tavern of the Golden Snail! Ten sous have I, so I’ll regale; Ten sous your amber brew to sip (Eight for the bock and two the tip), And so I’ll sit the evening long, And smoke my pipe and watch the throng, The giddy crowd that drains and drinks, I’ll watch it quiet as […]...
26. This Heart that Flutters Near My Heart This heart that flutters near my heart My hope and all my riches is, Unhappy when we draw apart And happy between kiss and kiss: My hope and all my riches – yes! – And all my happiness. For there, as in some mossy nest The wrens will divers treasures keep, I laid those treasures […]...
27. An Old Story Strange that I did not know him then. That friend of mine! I did not even show him then One friendly sign; But cursed him for the ways he had To make me see My envy of the praise he had For praising me. I would have rid the earth of him Once, in my […]...
28. Last Lines Jan 7th A dreadful darkness closes in On my bewildered mind; O let me suffer and not sin, Be tortured yet resigned. Through all this world of whelming mist Still let me look to Thee, And give me courage to resist The Tempter till he flee. Weary I am O give me strength And leave […]...
29. A Drunken Man's Praise Of Sobriety Come swish around, my pretty punk, And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my fill. Sobriety is a jewel That I do much adore; And therefore keep me dancing Though drunkards lie and snore. O mind your feet, O mind your feet, Keep dancing like a wave, […]...
30. Lines and Squares Whenever I walk in a London street, I’m ever so careful to watch my feet; And I keep in the squares, And the masses of bears, Who wait at the corners all ready to eat The sillies who tread on the lines of the street Go back to their lairs, And I say to them, […]...
31. Last Lines NO coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere: I see Heaven’s glories shine, And faith shines equal, arming me from fear. O God within my breast, Almighty, ever-present Deity! Life that in me has rest, As I undying Life have power in Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men’s […]...
32. Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead […]...
33. Lines Unfelt unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who – who could tell how much There is for madness – cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist! – they speak, In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds: Into […]...
34. Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, That is not mine, but is a made place, That is mine, it is so near to the heart, An eternal pasture folded in all thought So that there is a hall therein That is a made place, created by light Wherefrom the shadows that […]...
35. Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
36. A Leader THOUGH your eyes with tears were blind, Pain upon the path you trod: Well we knew, the hosts behind, Voice and shining of a god. For your darkness was our day: Signal fires, your pains untold Lit us on our wandering way To the mystic heart of gold. Naught we knew of the high land, […]...
37. Lines from Endymion A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loviliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing. Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth, […]...
38. The Poets O ye dead Poets, who are living still Immortal in your verse, though life be fled, And ye, O living Poets, who are dead Though ye are living, if neglect can kill, Tell me if in the darkest hours of ill, With drops of anguish falling fast and red From the sharp crown of thorns […]...
39. Lines Written In Recapitulation I could not bring this splendid world nor any trading beast In charge of it, to defer, no, not to give ear, not in the least Appearance, to my handsome prophecies, Which here I ponder and put by. I am left simpler, less encumbered, by the consciousness That I shall by no pebble in my […]...
40. Troth with the Dead The moon is broken in twain, and half a moon Before me lies on the still, pale floor of the sky; The other half of the broken coin of troth Is buried away in the dark, where the still dead lie. They buried her half in the grave when they laid her away; I had […]...