Mark Van Doren

Spring Thunder

Listen, The wind is still, And far away in the night See! The uplands fill With a running light. Open the doors. It is warm; And where the sky was clear Look! The head

Nothing Stays

Nothing stays Not even change, That can grow tired Of it’s own name; The very thought Too much for it. Somewhere in air A stillness is, So far, so thin- But let it alone.

Born Brothers

Equality is absolute or no. Nothing between can stand. We are the sons Of the same sire, or madness breaks and runs Through the rude world. Ridiculous our woe If single pity does not

Dunce Songs : 9

Love me little, love me long, Then we neither can be wrong: You in giving, I in taking; There is nor a heart breaking But remembers one touch, Or maybe seven, of too much.

Morning Worship

I wake and hearing it raining. Were I dead, what would I give Lazily to lie here, Like this, and live? Or better yet: birdsong, Brightening and spreading How far would I come then

How far is it to peace, the piper sighed, The solitary, sweating as he paused. Asphalt the noon; the ravens, terrified, Fled carrion thunder that percussion caused. The envelope of earth was powder loud;

After Long Drought

After long drought, commotion in the sky; After dead silence, thunder. Then it comes, The rain. It slashes leaves, and doubly drums On tin and shingle; beats and bends awry The flower heads; puddles

He Loves Me

That God should love me is more wonderful Than that I so imperfectly love him. My reason is mortality, and dim Senses; his oh, insupportable Is that he sees me. Even when I pull

The Deepest Dream

The deepest dream is of mad governors, Down, down we feel it, till the very crust Of the world cracks, and where there was no dust, Atoms of ruin rise. Confusion stirs, And fear;

Farewell and Thanksgiving

Whatever I have left unsaid When I am dead O’muse forgive me. You were always there, Like light, like air. Those great good things Of which the least bird sings, So why not I?