Pastoral

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1. Pastoral If it were only still!- With far away the shrill Crying of a cock; Or the shaken bell From a cow’s throat Moving through the bushes; Or the soft shock Of wizened apples falling From an old tree In a forgotten orchard Upon the hilly rock! Oh, grey hill, Where the grazing herd Licks the […]...
2. Spring Pastoral Liza, go steep your long white hands In the cool waters of that spring Which bubbles up through shiny sands The colour of a wild-dove’s wing. Dabble your hands, and steep them well Until those nails are pearly white Now rosier than a laurel bell; Then come to me at candlelight. Lay your cold hands […]...
3. Jonathan Houghton There is the caw of a crow, And the hesitant song of a thrush. There is the tinkle of a cowbell far away, And the voice of a plowman on Shipley’s hill. The forest beyond the orchard is still With midsummer stillness; And along the road a wagon chuckles, Loaded with corn, going to Atterbury. […]...
4. Pastoral Stanzas WHEN AURORA’S soft blushes o’erspread the blue hill, And the mist dies away at the glances of morn; When the birds join the music that floats on the rill, And the beauties of spring the young woodlands adorn. To breathe the pure air and enliven my soul, I bound from my cottage exulting and gay; […]...
5. In the Nower To J. De P. Deep in the grass outstretched I lie, Motionless on the hill; Above me is a cloudless sky, Around me all is still: There is no breath, no sound, no stir, The drowsy peace to break: I close my tired eyes it were So simple not to wake....
6. A Lady red amid the Hill A Lady red amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps! The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms Sweep vale and hill and tree! Prithee, My pretty Housewives! Who may expected be? The Neighbors do not yet suspect! The Woods exchange a smile! Orchard, and Buttercup, and […]...
7. The Dove of Dacca 1892 The freed dove flew to the Rajah’s tower Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings And the thorns have covered the city of Guar. Dove dove oh, homing dove! Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings! The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall; He set in his bosom a dove of flight […]...
8. Author's Prologue This day winding down now At God speeded summer’s end In the torrent salmon sun, In my seashaken house On a breakneck of rocks Tangled with chirrup and fruit, Froth, flute, fin, and quill At a wood’s dancing hoof, By scummed, starfish sands With their fishwife cross Gulls, pipers, cockles, and snails, Out there, crow […]...
9. Good-by and Keep Cold This saying good-by on the edge of the dark And the cold to an orchard so young in the bark Reminds me of all that can happen to harm An orchard away at the end of the farm All winter, cut off by a hill from the house. I don’t want it girdled by rabbit […]...
10. Down Home Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps […]...
11. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING MONTANO, SILVIO, AND MIRTILLO, SHEPHERDS MON. Bad are the times. SIL. And worse than they are we. MON. Troth, bad are both; worse fruit, and ill the tree: The feast of shepherds fail. SIL. None crowns the cup Of wassail now, or sets the quintel up: And he, who used to lead the country-round, Youthful […]...
12. I should not dare to leave my friend I should not dare to leave my friend, Because because if he should die While I was gone and I too late Should reach the Heart that wanted me If I should disappoint the eyes That hunted hunted so to see And could not bear to shut until They “noticed” me they noticed me If […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. Wind Song LONG ago I learned how to sleep, In an old apple orchard where the wind swept by counting its money and throwing it away, In a wind-gaunt orchard where the limbs forked out and listened or never listened at all, In a passel of trees where the branches trapped the wind into whistling, “Who, who […]...
15. The plane and the blackbird a cold bright sun Two days to christmas A first-quarter moon At a good vantage-point A small white coffin Driven slowly uphill From the cemetery gate To the minimal grave Fifty people attending Unexpected collection Of nettle-stung hearts At a barely-lived dying A shuffling past yews Thoughts finding rhythm A lightness that bred From a […]...
16. Yvonne Of Brittany In your mother’s apple-orchard, Just a year ago, last spring: Do you remember, Yvonne! The dear trees lavishing Rain of their starry blossoms To make you a coronet? Do you ever remember, Yvonne, As I remember yet? In your mother’s apple-orchard, When the world was left behind: You were shy, so shy, Yvonne! But your […]...
17. A Pastoral Just as the sun was setting Back of the Western hills Grandfather stood by the window Eating the last of his pills. And Grandmother, by the cupboard, Knitting, heard him say: “I ought to have went to the village To fetch some more pills today.” Then Grandmother snuffled a teardrop And said. “It is jest […]...
18. A Pastoral Dialogue (Melibæus, Alcippe, Asteria, Licida, Alcimedon, and Amira. ) Melibæus. WElcome fair Nymphs, most welcome to this shade, Distemp’ring Heats do now the Plains invade: But you may sit, from Sun securely here, If you an old mans company not fear. Alcippe. Most Reverend Swaine, far from us ever be The imputation of such Vanity. From Hill to Holt w’ave thee unweary’d sought, And […]...
19. Pastoral The little sparrows Hop ingenuously About the pavement Quarreling With sharp voices Over those things That interest them. But we who are wiser Shut ourselves in On either hand And no one knows Whether we think good Or evil. Meanwhile, The old man who goes about Gathering dog-lime Walks in the gutter Without looking up […]...
20. It Was Not Necessary To Study It was not necessary to study The language Of a strange country; Anyway, it would be of no help. It was not necessary to know Where Italy or England Is located; Travel was obviously Out of question. It was not necessary to live Among the wild beasts Of Noah’s ark, Which had just devoured The […]...
21. A Pastoral Dialogue Dorinda. SAbæan Perfumes fragrant Roses bring, With all the Flowers that Paint the gaudy Spring: Scatter them all in young Alexis’s way, With all that’s sweet and (like himself) that’s Gay. Alexis. Immortal Laurels and as lasting Praise, Crown the divine Dorinda’s matchless Laies: May all Hearts stoop, where mine would gladly yield, Had not […]...
22. 328. Poem on Pastoral Poetry HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv’d! In chase o’ thee, what crowds hae swerv’d Frae common sense, or sunk enerv’d ‘Mang heaps o’ clavers: And och! o’er aft thy joes hae starv’d, ‘Mid a’ thy favours! Say, Lassie, why, thy train amang, While loud the trump’s heroic clang, And sock or buskin skelp alang To death […]...
23. A Pastoral Dialogue Between Two Shepherdesses [Silvia] Pretty Nymph! within this Shade, Whilst the Flocks to rest are laid, Whilst the World dissolves in Heat, Take this cool, and flow’ry Seat: And with pleasing Talk awhile Let us two the Time beguile; Tho’ thou here no Shepherd see, To encline his humble Knee, Or with melancholy Lays Sing thy dangerous Beauty’s […]...
24. New Mexico I was fairly drunk when it Began and I took out my bottle and used it Along the way. I was reading a week or two after Kandel and I did not look quite as Pretty but I brought it off and we Ended up at the Webbs, 6, 8, 10 of Us, and I […]...
25. A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES:PRESENTED TO THE KING, AND SET BY MR NIC. LANIERE A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES: PRESENTED TO THE KING, AND SET BY MR NIC. LANIERE THE SPEAKERS: MIRTILLO, AMINTAS, AND AMARILLIS AMIN. Good day, Mirtillo. MIRT. And to you no less; And all fair signs lead on our shepherdess. AMAR. With all white luck to you. MIRT. But say, What news Stirs […]...
26. Tranquillity This morning on my pensive walk I saw a fisher on a rock, Who watched his ruby float careen In waters bluely crystalline, While silver fishes nosed his bait, Yet hesitated ere they ate. Nearby I saw a mother mid Who knitted by her naked child, And watched him as he romped with glee, In […]...
27. Dove Sta Amore Dove sta amore Where lies love Dove sta amore Here lies love The ring dove love In lyrical delight Hear love’s hillsong Love’s true willsong Love’s low plainsong Too sweet painsong In passages of night Dove sta amore Here lies love The ring dove love Dove sta amore Here lies love...
28. Work Gangs BOX cars run by a mile long. And I wonder what they say to each other When they stop a mile long on a sidetrack. Maybe their chatter goes: I came from Fargo with a load of wheat up to the danger line. I came from Omaha with a load of shorthorns and they splintered […]...
29. I noticed People disappeared I noticed People disappeared When but a little child Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild But did because they died A Fact withheld the little child...
30. Ascent To The Sierras Beyond the great valley an odd instinctive rising Begins to possess the ground, the flatness gathers to little humps and Barrows, low aimless ridges, A sudden violence of rock crowns them. The crowded orchards end, they Have come to a stone knife; The farms are finished; the sudden foot of the slerra. Hill over hill, […]...
31. The Temple To leave the earth was my wish, and no will stayed my rising. Early, before sun had filled the roads with carts Conveying folk to weddings and to murders; Before men left their selves of sleep, to wander In the dark of the world like whipped beasts. I took no pack. I had no horse, […]...
32. A Precise Woman A precise woman with a short haircut brings order To my thoughts and my dresser drawers, Moves feelings around like furniture Into a new arrangement. A woman whose body is cinched at the waist and firmly divided Into upper and lower, With weather-forecast eyes Of shatterproof glass. Even her cries of passion follow a certain […]...
33. Loneliness Now it is Loneliness who comes at night Instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed. Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread, I watch her softly blowing out the light. Motionless sitting, neither left or right She turns, and weary, weary droops her head. She, too, is old; she, too, has […]...
34. Peach Blossom Journey Fishing boat pursue water love hill spring Both banks peach blossom arrive ancient river crossing Travel look red tree not know far Travel furthest blue stream not see people Mountain mouth stealthy move begin cave profound Mountain open spacious view spin flat land Far see one place accumulate cloud tree Nearby join 1000 homes scattered […]...
35. Manufactured Gods THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden gods And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and put up A doughface god with gold earrings. The poor mutts, the pathetic slant heads, They didn’t know a little tin god Is as good as […]...
36. Bells in the Rain Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain, Upon the steep cliffs of the town. Sleep falls; men are at peace again While the small drops fall softly down. The bright drops ring like bells of glass Thinned by the wind, and lightly blown; Sleep cannot fall on peaceful grass So softly as it falls on […]...
37. A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS Just a family get-together in a terrace house in Bradford High tea with a few stuffy aunts I hadn’t seen for years Their husbands in tow like lost dogs sniffing round for food But she came all the same, ushered in politely as a friend Of a friend or somebody’s cousin twice removed though Everybody […]...
38. Independence Come to my arms – is it eve? is it morn? Is Apollo awake? Is Diana reborn? Are the streams in full song? Do the woods whisper hush Is it the nightingale? Is it the thrush? Is it the smile of the autumn, the blush Of the spring? Is the world full of peace or […]...
39. Father and Son Now in the suburbs and the falling light I followed him, and now down sandy road Whitter than bone-dust, through the sweet Curdle of fields, where the plums Dropped with their load of ripeness, one by one. Mile after mile I followed, with skimming feet, After the secret master of my blood, Him, steeped in […]...
40. My Dove, My Beautiful One My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes. The odorous winds are weaving A music of sighs: Arise, arise, My dove, my beautiful one! I wait by the cedar tree, My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed. The pale dew […]...