That Day you came

Related poetry:

1. Song in a Minor Key There’s a place I know where the birds swing low, And wayward vines go roaming, Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god Is pale, in scented gloaming. And at sunset there comes a lady fair Whose eyes are deep with yearning. By an old, old gate does the lady wait Her own true love’s […]...
2. The Spring And The Fall In the spring of the year, in the spring of the year, I walked the road beside my dear. The trees were black where the bark was wet. I see them yet, in the spring of the year. He broke me a bough of the blossoming peach That was out of the way and hard […]...
3. Lotus On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, And I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded. Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my Dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind. […]...
4. Come, Rest Awhile Come, rest awhile, and let us idly stray In glimmering valleys, cool and far away. Come from the greedy mart, the troubled street, And listen to the music, faint and sweet, That echoes ever to a listening ear, Unheard by those who will not pause to hear­ The wayward chimes of memory’s pensive bells, Wind-blown […]...
5. Market Square I had a penny, A bright new penny, I took my penny To the market square. I wanted a rabbit, A little brown rabbit, And I looked for a rabbit ‘Most everywhere. For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender (“Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!”). “Have you got a […]...
6. Benediction NOW the rooftree of the midnight spreading, Buds in citron, green, and blue: From afar its mystic odours shedding, Child, on you. Now the buried stars beneath the mountain And the vales their life renew, Jetting rainbow blooms from tiny fountains, Child, for you. In the diamond air the sun-star glowing, Up its feathered radiance […]...
7. The Mother Here I lean over you, small son, sleeping Warm in my arms, And I con to my heart all your dew-fresh charms, As you lie close, close in my hungry hold. . . Your hair like a miser’s dream of gold, And the white rose of your face far fairer, Finer, and rarer Than all […]...
8. In the Morning of Life In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own, And the light that surrounds us is all from within; Oh ’tis not, believe me, in that happy time We can love, as in hours of […]...
9. A transport one cannot contain A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be Though God forbid it lift the lid Unto its Ecstasy! A Diagram of Rapture! A sixpence at a Show With Holy Ghosts in Cages! The Universe would go!...
10. Cristina I. She should never have looked at me If she meant I should not love her! There are plenty… men, you call such, I suppose… she may discover All her soul to, if she pleases, And yet leave much as she found them: But I’m not so, and she knew it When she fixed me, […]...
11. The Wife a-Lost Since I noo mwore do zee your feace, Up steairs or down below, I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleace, Where flat-bough’d beech do grow; Below the beeches’ bough, my love, Where you did never come, An’ I don’t look to meet ye now, As I do look at hwome. Since you noo mwore be […]...
12. Guilty Of Dust up or down from the infinite C E N T E R B R I M M I N G at the winking rim of time The voice in my head said LOVE IS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN YOU AND WHAT YOU LOVE WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE * Then I saw the parade of […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. In Memoriam A. H. H.: Is it, then, regret for buried time Is it, then, regret for buried time That keenlier in sweet April wakes, And meets the year, and gives and takes The colours of the crescent prime? Not all: the songs, the stirring air, The life re-orient out of dust, Cry thro’ the sense to hearten trust In that which made the world so fair. […]...
15. The nymph’s reply to the shepherd If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy love. Time drives the flocks from field to fold When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, And Philomel becometh dumb; The rest complains of cares to come. The […]...
16. A Wanderer When Watkin shifts the burden of his cares And all that irked him in his bound employ, Once more become a vagrom-hearted boy, He moves to roundelays and jocund airs; Loitering with dusty harvestmen, he shares Old ale and sunshine; or, with maids half-coy, Pays court to shadows; fools himself with joy, Shaking a leg […]...
17. Her Reply IF all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd’s tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love. But Time drives flocks from field to fold; When rivers rage and rocks grow cold; And Philomel becometh dumb; The rest complains of cares to come. The […]...
18. An Appointment Being out of heart with government I took a broken root to fling Where the proud, wayward squirrel went, Taking delight that he could spring; And he, with that low whinnying sound That is like laughter, sprang again And so to the other tree at a bound. Nor the tame will, nor timid brain, Nor […]...
19. Picnic-time It’s June ag’in, an’ in my soul I feel the fillin’ joy That’s sure to come this time o’ year to every little boy; For, every June, the Sunday-schools at picnics may be seen, Where “fields beyont the swellin’ floods stand dressed in livin’ green”; Where little girls are skeered to death with spiders, bugs, […]...
20. A Spot In years defaced and lost, Two sat here, transport-tossed, Lit by a living love The wilted world knew nothing of: Scared momently By gaingivings, Then hoping things That could not be. Of love and us no trace Abides upon the place; The sun and shadows wheel, Season and season sereward steal; Foul days and fair […]...
21. "Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes&quot Heap cassia, sandal-buds and stripes Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smeared with dull nard an Indian wipes From out her hair: such balsam falls Down sea-side mountain pedestals, From tree-tops where tired winds are fain, Spent with the vast and howling main, To treasure half their island-gain. And strew faint sweetness from some old Egyptian’s fine […]...
22. Song from 'Paracelsus&#039 HEAP cassia, sandal-buds and stripes Of labdanum, and aloe-balls, Smear’d with dull nard an Indian wipes From out her hair: such balsam falls Down sea-side mountain pedestals, From tree-tops where tired winds are fain, Spent with the vast and howling main, To treasure half their island-gain. And strew faint sweetness from some old Egyptian’s fine […]...
23. My House I have a house I’ve lived in long: I can’t recall my going in. ‘Twere better bartered for a song Ere ruin, rot and rust begin. When it was fresh and fine and fair, I used it with neglect, I fear; But now I husband it with care And cherish it form year to year. […]...
24. 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. […]...
25. 1991-I The year begins with war. Our bombs fall day and night, Hour after hour, by death Abroad appeasing wrath, Folly, and greed at home. Upon our giddy tower We’d oversway the world. Our hate comes down to kill Those whom we do not see, For we have given up Our sight to those in power […]...
26. Down, Wanton, Down! Down, wanton, down! Have you no shame That at the whisper of Love’s name, Or Beauty’s, presto! up you raise Your angry head and stand at gaze? Poor bombard-captain, sworn to reach The ravelin and effect a breach Indifferent what you storm or why, So be that in the breach you die! Love may be […]...
27. IN A WORD THUS to be chain’d for ever, can I bear? A very torment that, in truth, would be. This very day my new resolve shall see. I’ll not go near the lately-worshipp’d Fair. Yet what excuse, my heart, can I prepare In such a case, for not consulting thee? But courage! while our sorrows utter we […]...
28. Why do you strive for greatness, fool? Why do you strive for greatness, fool? Go pluck a bough and wear it. It is as sufficing. My Lord, there are certain barbarians Who tilt their noses As if the stars were flowers, And Thy servant is lost among their shoe-buckles. Fain would I have mine eyes even with their eyes. Fool, go pluck […]...
29. To a Blackbird and His Mate Who Died in the Spring (For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throats That throbbed with loud and rhythmic glee And dammed the flood of silver notes That drenched the world in melody. The blosmy apple boughs are yearning For their wild choristers’ returning, But no swift wings flash through the tree. Ye that were glad and fleet and […]...
30. I fit for them I fit for them I seek the Dark Till I am thorough fit. The labor is a sober one With this sufficient sweet That abstinence of mine produce A purer food for them, if I succeed, If not I had The transport of the Aim...
31. The Song Of The Widow In the beginning life was good to me; It held me warm and gave me courage. That this is granted all while in their youth, How could I then have known of this. I never knew what living was. But suddenly it was just year on year, No more good, no more new, no more […]...
32. Light and Dark NOT the soul that’s whitest Wakens love the sweetest: When the heart is lightest Oft the charm is fleetest. While the snow-frail maiden, Waits the time of learning, To the passion laden Turn with eager yearning. While the heart is burning Heaven with earth is banded: To the stars returning Go not empty-handed. Ah, the […]...
33. Now At Liberty Little white love, your way you’ve taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart’s forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there’s no returning; Once you go out, it’s done, it’s done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.) Little white […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. My Song This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like The fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of Blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in Your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence […]...
36. Flowers Well if anybody Flowers Well if anybody Can the ecstasy define Half a transport half a trouble With which flowers humble men: Anybody find the fountain From which floods so contra flow I will give him all the Daisies Which upon the hillside blow. Too much pathos in their faces For a simple breast like mine Butterflies from […]...
37. Ox Tamer, The IN a faraway northern county, in the placid, pastoral region, Lives my farmer friend, the theme of my recitative, a famous Tamer of Oxen: There they bring him the three-year-olds and the four-year-olds, to break them; He will take the wildest steer in the world, and break him and tame him; He will go, fearless, […]...
38. The Waradgery Tribe Harried we were, and spent, Broken and falling, Ere as the cranes we went, Crying and calling. Summer shall see the bird Backward returning; Never shall there be heard Those, who went yearning. Emptied of us the land; Ghostly our going; Fallen like spears the hand Dropped in the throwing. We are the lost who […]...
39. Recurrence We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and down the little hill. It is good to love again; Scan the renovated skies, Dip and drive the idling pen, Sweetly tint the paling lies. Trace the dripping, pierced heart, Speak the fair, insistent verse, […]...
40. The Picture Of Little T. C. In A Prospect Of Flowers See with what simplicity This Nimph begins her golden daies! In the green Grass she loves to lie, And there with her fair Aspect tames The Wilder flow’rs, and gives them names: But only with the Roses playes; And them does tell What Colour best becomes them, and what Smell. Who can foretel for what […]...