The Forest Path

Related poetry:

1. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
2. The Wood Pool Here is a voice that soundeth low and far And lyric­voice of wind among the pines, Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are, And sunlight seldom shines. Elusive shadows linger shyly here, And wood-flowers blow, like pale, sweet spirit-bloom, And white, slim birches whisper, mirrored clear In the pool’s lucent gloom. Here Pan might pipe, or […]...
3. The Piper AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, – You rouse the heart to wander and be free, Tho’ where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell, For you pipe the open highway and the sea. O piper, lightly footing, lightly piping on your way, Tho’ your […]...
4. Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again;’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
5. Songs Of Innocence: Introduction Piping down the valleys wild Piping songs of pleasant glee On a cloud I saw a child. And he laughing said to me. Pipe a song about a Lamb: So I piped with merry chear, Piper, pipe that song again So I piped, he wept to hear. Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe Sing thy […]...
6. Reeds of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again;’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
7. Piping Down the Valleys Wild Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again.’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
8. Echo Dell In a lone valley fair and far, Where many sweet beguilements are, I know a spot to lag and dream Through damask morns and noons agleam; For feet fall lightly on the fern And twilight is a wondrous thing, When the winds blow from some far bourne Beyond the hill rims westering; There echoes ring […]...
9. My Rocking-Chair When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking-chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning-glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass, A shady street where people pass; And some who come with time to spare, To yarn beside my rocking-chair. Then I […]...
10. Dream Song 116: Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way, No chickadee was troubled, small moss smiled On his swift passage. But there were those ahead when at midday They met in a clearing and lookt at each other awhile. To kill was not the message. He only could go with them—odds? 20 to one-and-a-half; Pointless. […]...
11. IN THE FOREST Out of the mid-wood’s twilight Into the meadow’s dawn, Ivory limbed and brown-eyed, Flashes my Faun! He skips through the copses singing, And his shadow dances along, And I know not which I should follow, Shadow or song! O Hunter, snare me his shadow! O Nightingale, catch me his strain! Else moonstruck with music and […]...
12. Forest Of Europe The last leaves fell like notes from a piano And left their ovals echoing in the ear; With gawky music stands, the winter forest Looks like an empty orchestra, its lines Ruled on these scattered manuscripts of snow. The inlaid copper laurel of an oak Shines though the brown-bricked glass above your head As bright […]...
13. By the Spring, at Sunset Sometimes we remember kisses, Remember the dear heart-leap when they came: Not always, but sometimes we remember The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame Of laughter and farewell. Beside the road Afar from those who said “Good-by” I write, Far from my city task, my lawful load. Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder, […]...
14. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
15. Grass The living room is overgrown with grass. It has Come up around the furniture. It stretches through The dining room, past the swinging door into the Kitchen. It extends for miles and miles into the Walls. . . There’s treasure in grass, things dropped or put There; a stick of rust that was once a […]...
16. Theme For English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here To this college on the hill above Harlem. I am […]...
17. A Winter Day I The air is silent save where stirs A bugling breeze among the firs; The virgin world in white array Waits for the bridegroom kiss of day; All heaven blooms rarely in the east Where skies are silvery and fleeced, And o’er the orient hills made glad The morning comes in wonder clad; Oh, ’tis […]...
18. The Hill Maples Here on a hill of the occident stand we shoulder to shoulder, Comrades tried and true through a mighty swath of the years! Spring harps glad laughter through us, and ministrant rains of the autumn Sing us again the songs of ancient dolor and tears. The glory of sunrise smites on our fair, free brows […]...
19. The Water Nymphs They hide in the brook when I seek to draw nearer, Laughing amain when I feign to depart; Often I hear them, now faint and now clearer- Innocent bold or so sweetly discreet. Are they Nymphs of the Stream at their playing Or but the brook I mistook for a voice? Little care I; for, […]...
20. Heritage Now the dead past seems vividly alive, And in this shining moment I can trace, Down through the vista of the vanished years, Your faun-like form, your fond elusive face. And suddenly some secret spring’s released, And unawares a riddle is revealed, And I can read like large, black-lettered print, What seemed before a thing […]...
21. Pan liveth They told me once that Pan was dead, And so, in sooth, I thought him; For vainly where the streamlets led Through flowery meads I sought him Nor in his dewy pasture bed Nor in the grove I caught him. “Tell me,” ’twas so my clamor ran “Tell me, oh, where is Pan?” But, once, […]...
22. Lament Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun, Those crags in childhood that I used to climb? Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain, Hidden is the heart. A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between, Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream, Gone are the rocky places and the green, Hidden, […]...
23. A Forest Hymn The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them, – ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the […]...
24. The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy’s murdered mouth....
25. A Day in the Open Ho, a day Whereon we may up and away, With a fetterless wind that is out on the downs, And there piping a call to the fallow and shore, Where the sea evermore Surgeth over the gray reef, and drowns The fierce rocks with white foam; It is ours with untired feet to roam Where […]...
26. An Unfamiliar Path Walking an unfamiliar path that you’ve Never trod before, Or knocking on a strange and unfamiliar Door, Can be extremely scary as you never Really know Exactly who’s behind the door or where The path will go. Yet these are things we all must do To excel in life and grow, To find ourselves a […]...
27. The Lost Path The garden’s full of scented wallflowers, And, save that these stir faintly, nothing stirs; Only a distant bell in hollow chime Cried out just now for far-forgoten time, And three reverberate words the great bell spoke. The knocker’s made of brass, the door of oak, And such a clamor must be loosed on air By […]...
28. The Path RUNNING along a bank, a parapet That saves from the precipitous wood below The level road, there is a path. It serves Children for looking down the long smooth steep, Between the legs of beech and yew, to where A fallen tree checks the sight: while men and women Content themselves with the road and […]...
29. Closed Path I thought that my voyage had come to its end At the last limit of my power, – that the path before me was closed, That provisions were exhausted And the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity. But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words […]...
30. Senlin: His Cloudy Destiny 1 Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us and we saw him. Was he small, with reddish hair, Did he light his pipe with a meditative stare And a twinkling flame reflected in blue eyes? ‘I am alone’: said Senlin; ‘in a forest of leaves The single leaf […]...
31. They Who Tread the Path of Labor They who tread the path of labor follow where My feet have trod; They who work without complaining, do the holy will of God; Nevermore thou needest seek me; I am with thee everywhere; Raise the stone, and thou shalt find Me, clease the wood and I am there. Where the many toil together, there […]...
32. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 22. The path by which we twain did go The path by which we twain did go, Which led by tracts that pleased us well, Thro’ four sweet years arose and fell, From flower to flower, from snow to snow: And we with singing cheer’d the way, And, crown’d with all the season lent, From April on to April went, And glad at heart […]...
33. The Fruit Garden Path The path runs straight between the flowering rows, A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds of bloom, Where phlox and marigolds dispute for room With tall, red dahlias and the briar rose. ‘T is reckless prodigality which throws Into the night these wafts of rich perfume Which sweep across the garden like a plume. Over […]...
34. Temple Tree Path Narrow path sunless temple locust tree Deep dark much green moss Should gate except meet sweep In case have hill monk come A narrow, sunless path to the temple tree, Deep and dark; abundant green moss. Wait by the gate when finished sweeping the yard, In case a monk should come down from the hill....
35. Sonnet XLVI: Plain-Path'd Experience Plain-path’d Experience, th’unlearned’s guide, Her simple followers evidently shows Sometimes what Schoolmen scarcely can decide, Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knows. In making trial of a murther wrought, If the vile actors of the heinous deed Near the dead body happily be brought, Oft it hath been prov’d the breathless corse will bleed. She’s coming […]...
36. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!...
37. Why Do Birds Sing? Let poets piece prismatic words, Give me the jewelled joy of birds! What ecstasy moves them to sing? Is it the lyric glee of Spring, The dewy rapture of the rose? Is it the worship born in those Who are of Nature’s self a part, The adoration of the heart? Is it the mating mood […]...
38. In The Forest HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead, Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red, Here let us burn them in noon’s flaming torches of fire. We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long […]...
39. Sleeping In The Forest I thought the earth remembered me, She took me back so tenderly, Arranging her dark skirts, her pockets Full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed, Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars But my thoughts, and they floated light as moths Among the […]...
40. The Dark Forest Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they were sown was bred Anything more bright. And evermore mighty multitudes ride About, nor enter in; Of the other multitudes that dwell inside Never yet was one seen. The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite […]...