Vespers

Related poetry:

1. Once there came a man Once there came a man Who said, “Range me all men of the world in rows.” And instantly There was terrific clamour among the people Against being ranged in rows. There was a loud quarrel, world-wide. It endured for ages; And blood was shed By those who would not stand in rows, And by those […]...
2. The Man from Goondiwindi, Q I This is the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. II This is the Push from Waterloo That spotted the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. III These are the wealthy uncles two, Part of the Push from Waterloo That spotted the sunburnt bushman who Came down from Goondiwindi, Q. IV […]...
3. Tools for life Has life ever dumped you in a heap? Perhaps you’ve found self belief so strongly Reinforcing that doubt never enters it, Nor divorces you from your own reality. While I admire conviction I see it an Affliction of the blessed, sign of the righteously Possessed and indeed, a decent place to serve A sentence for […]...
4. Teaching XVIII Then said a teacher, “Speak to us of Teaching.” And he said: No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of our knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith […]...
5. Yet Do I Marvel I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind And did He stoop to quibble could tell why The little buried mole continues blind, Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die, Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus To struggle up a […]...
6. In a Disused Graveyard The living come with grassy tread To read the gravestones on the hill; The graveyard draws the living still, But never anymore the dead. The verses in it say and say: “The ones who living come today To read the stones and go away Tomorrow dead will come to stay.” So sure of death the […]...
7. Teddy Bear A bear, however hard he tries, Grows tubby without exercise. Our Teddy Bear is short and fat, Which is not to be wondered at; He gets what exercise he can By falling off the ottoman, But generally seems to lack The energy to clamber back. Now tubbiness is just the thing Which gets a fellow […]...
8. Pensive and Faltering PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition-I the spectre.) 5...
9. Yes, the Dead Speak to Us YES, the Dead speak to us. This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall out, when one says the Dead spoke a Yes, and the […]...
10. In the Country This life is sweetest; in this wood I hear no children cry for food; I see no woman, white with care; No man, with muscled wasting here. No doubt it is a selfish thing To fly from human suffering; No doubt he is a selfish man, Who shuns poor creatures, sad and wan. But ’tis […]...
11. The Microbe The Microbe is so very small You cannot make him out at all, But many sanguine people hope To see him through a microscope. His jointed tongue that lies beneath A hundred curious rows of teeth; His seven tufted tails with lots Of lovely pink and purple spots, On each of which a pattern stands, […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Einstein A little mousey man he was With board, and chalk in hand; And millions were awestruck because They couldn’t understand. Said he: ‘E equals Mc2: I’ll prove it true.’ No doubt you can, your marvel man, But will it serve our good? Will it prolong our living span And multiply our food? Will it bring […]...
14. We reflect this day on the essence of intimacy We reflect this day on the essence of intimacy, From its origins in the spring-tide of youth To an afterward secured in distant mist In awe for the reason and to what end it endures. We weigh the consequence, Keen with up-welling sentiment, Sense new love spring before the old Has run its course (but […]...
15. O Living Always-Always Dying O LIVING always-always dying! O the burials of me, past and present! O me, while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever! O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not-I am content;) O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at, where I cast […]...
16. Dream Song 67: I don't operate often. When I do I don’t operate often. When I do, Persons take note. Nurses look amazed. They pale. The patient is brought back to life, or so. The reason I don’t do this more (I quote) Is: I have a living to fail— Because of my wife & son—to keep from earning. €”Mr Bones, I sees that. They […]...
17. The Sound of the Sea The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, And round the pebbly beaches far and wide I heard the first wave of the rising tide Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep; A voice out of the silence of the deep, A sound mysteriously multiplied As of a cataract from the mountain’s side, Or roar of winds […]...
18. The Meeting After so long an absence At last we meet agin: Does the meeting give us pleasure, Or does it give us pain? The tree of life has been shaken, And but few of us linger now, Like the prophets two or three berries In the top of the uppermost bough. We cordially greet each other […]...
19. Man Child All day he lay upon the sand When summer sun was bright, And let the grains sift through his hand With infantile delight; Just like a child, so soft and fair, Though he was twenty-five – An innocent, my mother – care Had kept so long alive. Oh it is hard to bear a cross […]...
20. Insensibility I Happy are men who yet before they are killed Can let their veins run cold. Whom no compassion fleers Or makes their feet Sore on the alleys cobbled with their brothers. The front line withers, But they are troops who fade, not flowers For poets’ tearful fooling: Men, gaps for filling Losses who might […]...
21. The Traveller-Heart (To a Man who maintained that the Mausoleum is the Stateliest Possible Manner of Interment) I would be one with the dark, dark earth: Follow the plough with a yokel tread. I would be part of the Indian corn, Walking the rows with the plumes o’erhead. I would be one with the lavish earth, Eating […]...
22. On your birthday, today On your birthday, today, there is time to reflect On the essence of our intimacy, From a beginning in the spring-tide of youth To an afterward secured in the distant mist, And for what reason and to what end it endures. Each year I feel the consequence, keen With up-welling of sentiment, Where new love […]...
23. Ballade at Thirty-five This, no song of an ingénue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience, This, a chantey of sophistry, This, the sum of experiments, I loved them until they loved me. Decked in garments of sable hue, Daubed with ashes of […]...
24. Memorabilia I Ah, did you once see Shelley plain, And did he stop and speak to you? And did you speak to him again? How strange it seems, and new? II But you were living before that, And you are living after, And the memory I started at – My starting moves your laughter. III I […]...
25. Personal request for what my heart held clear And didn’t have the wit to show For what my path proposed And got lost in its diversions For what my beginnings dreamed And my ends cannot lay hold of For what promises i made And have not had the shine to keep to I ask your understanding For […]...
26. Our journey had advanced Our journey had advanced Our feet were almost come To that odd Fork in Being’s Road Eternity by Term Our pace took sudden awe Our feet reluctant led Before were Cities but Between The Forest of the Dead Retreat was out of Hope Behind a Sealed Route Eternity’s White Flag Before And God at every […]...
27. A Hymn O God of earth and altar, Bow down and hear our cry, Our earthly rulers falter, Our people drift and die; The walls of gold entomb us, The swords of scorn divide, Take not thy thunder from us, But take away our pride. From all that terror teaches, From lies of tongue and pen, From […]...
28. On The Death Of Anne Bronte There’s little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I’ve lived the parting hour to see Of one I would have died to save. Calmly to watch the failing breath, Wishing each sigh might be the last; Longing to see the shade of death O’er those beloved features cast; The cloud, […]...
29. Doubt No More That Oberon Doubt no more that Oberon- Never doubt that Pan Lived, and played a reed, and ran After nymphs in a dark forest, In the merry, credulous days,- Lived, and led a fairy band Over the indulgent land! Ah, for in this dourest, sorest Age man’s eye has looked upon, Death to fauns and death to […]...
30. Calls BECAUSE I have called to you As the flame flamingo calls, Or the want of a spotted hawk Is called- because in the dusk The warblers shoot the running Waters of short songs to the Homecoming warblers- because The cry here is wing to wing And song to song- I am waiting, Waiting with the […]...
31. St. John's, Cambridge I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade Thy western window, Chapel of St. John! And hear its leaves repeat their benison On him, whose hand thy stones memorial laid; Then I remember one of whom was said In the world’s darkest hour, “Behold thy son!” And see him living still, and wandering on And […]...
32. The Wise Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot to grow. Dead men alone bear frost and rain On throbless heart and heatless brain, And feel no stir of joy or pain. Dead men alone are satiate; They sleep and dream and have no […]...
33. Edmonton, thy cemetery Edmonton, thy cemetery In which I love to tread Has roused in me a dreary thought For all the countless dead, Ah me, the countless dead. Yet I believe that one is one And shall for ever be, And while I hold to this belief I walk, oh cemetery, Thy footpaths happily. And I believe […]...
34. Davis Matlock Suppose it is nothing but the hive: That there are drones and workers And queens, and nothing but storing honey (Material things as well as culture and wisdom) For the next generation, this generation never living, Except as it swarms in the sun-light of youth, Strengthening its wings on what has been gathered, And tasting, […]...
35. Flying at Forty You call me Courageous, I who grew up Gnawing on books, As some kids Gnaw On bubble gum, Who married disastrously Not once But three times, Yet have a lovely daughter I would not undo For all the dope In California. Fear was my element, Fear my contagion. I swam in it Till I became […]...
36. Hymn 140 A living and a dead faith. Collected from several scriptures. Mistaken souls, that dream of heav’n, And make their empty boast Of inward joys, and sins forgiv’n, While they are slaves to lust! Vain are our fancies, airy flights, If faith be cold and dead; None but a living power unites To Christ the living […]...
37. Window Shopper I stood before a candy shop Which with a Christmas radiance shone; I saw my parents pass and stop To grin at me and then go on. The sweets were heaped in gleamy rows; On each I feasted – what a game! Against the glass with flatted nose, Gulping my spittle as it came; So […]...
38. 81. Song-For a' that THO’ 1 women’s minds, like winter winds, May shift, and turn, an’ a’ that, The noblest breast adores them maist- A consequence I draw that. Chorus For a’ that, an’ a’ that, And twice as meikle’s a’ that; The bonie lass that I loe best She’ll be my ain for a’ that. Great love I […]...
39. Enemy Conscript What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) Freedom to starve or slave! Freedom! aye, in the grave. Fighting for “hearth and home,” Who haven’t an inch of loam? Hearth? Why even a byre Can only be ours for hire. Dying for future […]...
40. That short potential stir That short potential stir That each can make but once That Bustle so illustrious ‘Tis almost Consequence Is the eclat of Death Oh, thou unknown Renown That not a Beggar would accept Had he the power to spurn...