Sonnet to Lake Leman

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1. Lake Maidenly lake, fathomless lake, Stay as you were once, overgrown with rushes, Idling with a reflected cloud, for my sake Whom your shore no longer touches. Your girl was always real to me. Her bones lie in a city by the sea. Everything occurs too normally. A unique love simply wears away. Girl, hey, girl, […]...
2. Sonnet X: Dang'rous to Hear Dang’rous to hear, is that melodious tongue, And fatal to the sense those murd’rous eyes, Where in a sapphire sheath, Love’s arrow lies, Himself conceal’d the crystal haunts among! Oft o’er that form, enamour’d have I hung, On that smooth cheek to mark the deep’ning dyes, While from that lip the fragrant breath would rise, […]...
3. The Lake Isle Of Innisfree I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils […]...
4. Rousseau Monument of our own age’s shame, On thy country casting endless blame, Rousseau’s grave, how dear thou art to me Calm repose be to thy ashes blest! In thy life thou vainly sought’st for rest, But at length ’twas here obtained by thee! When will ancient wounds be covered o’er? Wise men died in heathen […]...
5. The power of the Lake The power of the Lake lingers still So many years beyond its fascination Ending; it was there in the beginning, An unveiling of towering sensitivities, A flowering of gentle obsession. The town that grew in the lee Of the Lake expressed the same Thoughts although hard head bastards Bartered and fought for land, Trying to […]...
6. By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore By that Lake, whose gloomy shore Sky-lark never warbles o’er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. “Here, at least,” he calmly said, “Woman ne’er shall find my bed.” Ah! the good Saint little knew What that wily sex can do. ‘Twas from Kathleen’s eyes he flew Eyes of […]...
7. Sonnet 30 – I see thine image through my tears to-night I see thine image through my tears to-night, And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How Refer the cause?-Beloved, is it thou Or I, who makes me sad? The acolyte Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite May so fall flat, with pale insensate brow, On the altar-stair. I hear thy voice and vow, Perplexed, […]...
8. By The Lake ACROSS the flat and the pastel snow Two people go. . . . ‘And do you remember When last we wandered this shore?’ . . . ‘Ah no! For it is cold-hearted December.’ ‘Dead, the leaves that like asses’s ears hung on the trees When last we wandered and squandered joy here; Now Midas your […]...
9. Sonnet XXXII: Our Flood's-Queen Thames Our flood’s-queen Thames for ships and swans is crown’d, And stately Severn for her shore is prais’d, The crystal Trent for fords and fish renown’d, And Avon’s fame to Albion’s cliffs is rais’d; Carlegion Chester vaunts her holy Dee, York many wonders of her Ouse can tell, The Peak her Dove, whose banks so fertile […]...
10. The Higher Unity The Rev. Isaiah Bunter has disappeared into the interior of the Solomon Islands, and it is feared that he may have been devoured by the natives, as there has been a considerable revival of religious customs among the Polynesians. A real paragraph from a real Paper; only the names altered. It was Isaiah Bunter Who […]...
11. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet III Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run Down his dark cheek; hold hold thy merciless hand, Pale tyrant! for beneath thy hard command O’erwearied Nature sinks. The scorching Sun, As pityless as proud Prosperity, Darts on him his full beams; gasping he lies Arraigning with his looks the patient skies, While that […]...
12. The Mountain And The Lake I know a mountain thrilling to the stars, Peerless and pure, and pinnacled with snow; Glimpsing the golden dawn o’er coral bars, Flaunting the vanisht sunset’s garnet glow; Proudly patrician, passionless, serene; Soaring in silvered steeps where cloud-surfs break; Virgin and vestal Oh, a very Queen! And at her feet there dreams a quiet lake. […]...
13. The Lake In spring of youth it was my lot To haunt of the wide world a spot The which I could not love the less- So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, And the tall pines that towered around. But when the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, […]...
14. Sonnet XXVIII THe laurell leafe, which you this day doe weare, Guies me great hope of your relenting mynd: For since it is the badg which I doe beare, Ye bearing it doe seeme to me inclind: The powre thereof, which ofte in me I find, Let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire With sweet infusion, and […]...
15. Night Hymns on Lake Nipigon Here in the midnight, where the dark mainland and island Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, profounder, Sing we the hymns of the churches, while the dead water Whispers before us. Thunder is travelling slow on the path of the lightning; One after one the stars and the beaming planets Look serene in the lake from […]...
16. Sonnet 19 – The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise XIX The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise; I barter curl for curl upon that mart, And from my poet’s forehead to my heart Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,- As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, . . . The bay-crown’s […]...
17. Sonnet XXXI: With How Sad Steps, O Moon With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heav’nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case, I read it in thy looks; […]...
18. Sonnet III: With how sad steps With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb’st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What! may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case: I read it in thy looks; thy […]...
19. The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman You waves, though you dance by my feet like children at play, Though you glow and you glance, though you purr and you dart; In the Junes that were warmer than these are, the waves were more gay, When I was a boy with never a crack in my heart. The herring are not in […]...
20. Sonnet XII: Cupid, Because Thou Cupid, because thou shin’st in Stella’s eyes, That from her locks, thy day-nets, noe scapes free, That those lips swell, so full of thee they be, That her sweet breath makes oft thy flames to rise, That in her breast thy pap well sugared lies, That he Grace gracious makes thy wrongs, that she What […]...
21. Sonnet – To Zante Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers, Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take! How many memories of what radiant hours At sight of thee and thine at once awake! How many scenes of what departed bliss! How many thoughts of what entombed hopes! How many visions of a maiden that is […]...
22. Lake Otamangakau I The roaring of Te Whaiau intake weir Intrudes as sleep eludes again To soar across the lake On white-tipped, swan-wide wings. A defiant wild cat’s call, a tuneless howl That crashes through these nylon walls Which stem the thrust of night, Comes taunting in and curdles dreams, Itching in the seams of somnolence. II […]...
23. Breath Is Enough I draw sweet air Deeply and long, As pure as prayer, As sweet as song. Where lilies glow And roses wreath, Heart-joy I know Is just to breathe. Aye, so I think By shore or sea, As deep I drink Of purity. This brave machine, Bare to the buff, I keep ice-clean, Breath is enough. […]...
24. Reptiles And Roses So crystal clear it is to me That when I die I cease to be, All else seems sheer stupidity. All promises of Paradise Are wishful thinking, preacher’s lies, Dogmatic dust flung in our eyes. Yea, life’s immortal, swift it flows Alike in reptile and in rose, But as it comes, so too it goes. […]...
25. Sonnet XXVII FAire proud now tell me why should faire be proud; Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse vncleane: And in the shade of death it selfe shall shroud, How euer now thereof ye little weene. That goodly Idoll now so gay beseene, Shall doffe her fleshes borowd fayre attyre: And be forgot as it had […]...
26. Twas One of Those Dreams ‘TWAS one of those dreams, that by music are brought, Like a bright summer haze, o’er the poet’s warm thought When, lost in the future, his soul wanders on, And all of this life, but its sweetness, is gone. The wild notes he heard o’er the water were those He had taught to sing Erin’s […]...
27. Sonnet LIII: Clear Anker Another to the River Anker Clear Anker, on whose silver-sanded shore My soul-shrin’d saint, my fair Idea, lies, O blessed brook, whose milk-white swans adore The crystal stream refined by her eyes, Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the Spring Gently distils his nectar-dropping showers, Where nightingales in Arden sit and sing Among the dainty dew-impearled […]...
28. Sonnet XXVII: Is Not Love Here Is not Love here as ’tis in other climes, And differeth it, as do the several nations? Or hath it lost the virtue with the times, Or in this island altereth with the fashions? Or have our passions lesser power than theirs, Who had less art them lively to express? Is Nature grown less powerful […]...
29. Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlooked for joy in that I honour most. Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread, But as the marigold at the sun’s eye, And in themselves their pride lies burièd, For […]...
30. Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint Never let me lose the marvel Of your statue-like eyes, or the accent The solitary rose of your breath Places on my cheek at night. I am afraid of being, on this shore, A branchless trunk, and what I most regret Is having no flower, pulp, or clay For the worm of my despair. If […]...
31. Sonnet 84: Who is it that says most, which can say more Who is it that says most, which can say more, Than this rich praise that you alone are you, In whose confine immurГЕd is the store Which should example where your equal grew? Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory; But he that writes of you, […]...
32. Sonnet LXXXIV Who is it that says most? which can say more Than this rich praise, that you alone are you? In whose confine immured is the store Which should example where your equal grew. Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory; But he that writes of you, […]...
33. Sonnet LXIV: When I Have Seen by Time's Fell Hand Defac'd When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-ras’d And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the wat’ry main, […]...
34. Sonnet LVI Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d, To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might: So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness, To-morrow see again, and do not kill The spirit […]...
35. The Old Dust The living is a passing traveler; The dead, a man come home. One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth, Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages. The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain; Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood. Man dies, his white […]...
36. The Village Atheist Ye young debaters over the doctrine Of the soul’s immortality I who lie here was the village atheist, Talkative, contentious, versed in the arguments Of the infidels. But through a long sickness Coughing myself to death I read the Upanishads and the poetry of Jesus. And they lighted a torch of hope and intuition And […]...
37. Sonnet XLVII: In Pride of Wit In pride of wit when high desire of fame Gave life and courage to my laboring pen, And first the sound and virtue of my name Won grace and credit in the ears of men, With those the thronged theatres that press I in the circuit for the laurel strove, Where the full praise, I […]...
38. I am alive I guess I am alive I guess The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory And at my finger’s end The Carmine tingles warm And if I hold a Glass Across my Mouth it blurs it Physician’s proof of Breath I am alive because I am not in a Room The Parlor Commonly it is […]...
39. Growing Old What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for beauty to forego her wreath? Yes, but not for this alone. Is it to feel our strength – Not our bloom only, but our strength-decay? Is it to feel each limb Grow […]...
40. Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced The rich-proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing […]...