The Sun

Related poetry:

1. There's a certain Slant of light There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes Heavenly Hurt, it gives us We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are None may teach it Any ‘Tis the Seal Despair An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air When it comes, the Landscape […]...
2. The Rapture All summer I wandered the fields That were thickening Every morning, Every rainfall, With weeds and blossoms, With the long loops Of the shimmering, and the extravagant- Pale as flames they rose And fell back, Replete and beautiful- That was all there was- And I too Once or twice, at least, Felt myself rising, My […]...
3. 195. Song-A Rose-bud by my Early Walk A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet […]...
4. Sonnet 33: Full many a glorious morning have I seen Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountaintops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
5. Sonnets XXXIII: Full many a glorious morning have I seen Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
6. The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me It was the first gift he ever gave her, Buying it for five five francs in the Galeries In pre-war Paris. It was stifling. A starless drought made the nights stormy. They stayed in the city for the summer. The met in cafes. She was always early. He was late. That evening he was later. […]...
7. Sonnet XXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
8. Her Voice The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing, Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing, In his wandering; Sit closer love: it was here I trow I made that vow, Swore that two lives should be like one As long as the sea-gull […]...
9. Two Seasons I The stars were wild that summer evening As on the low lake shore stood you and I And every time I caught your flashing eye Or heard your voice discourse on anything It seemed a star went burning down the sky. I looked into your heart that dying summer And found your silent woman’s […]...
10. Castile Orange blossoms blowing over Castile Children begging for coins I met my love under an orange tree Or was it an acacia tree Or was he not my love? I read this, then I dreamed this: Can waking take back what happened to me? Bells of San Miguel Ringing in the distance His hair in […]...
11. Essential Oils are wrung Essential Oils are wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Suns alone It is the gift of Screws The General Rose decay But this in Lady’s Drawer Make Summer When the Lady lie In Ceaseless Rosemary...
12. Margaret Many birds and the beating of wings Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy. In your blue eyes, O reckless child, I saw today many little wild wishes, Eager as the great morning....
13. The Prisoner I count the dismal time by months and years Since last I felt the green sward under foot, And the great breath of all things summer- Met mine upon my lips. Now earth appears As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres Or thoughts of Heaven we weep at. Nature’s lute Sounds on, behind […]...
14. A Letter From the Front I was out early to-day, spying about From the top of a haystack such a lovely morning And when I mounted again to canter back I saw across a field in the broad sunlight A young Gunner Subaltern, stalking along With a rook-rifle held at the read, and would you believe it? A domestic cat, […]...
15. The Sun just touched the Morning The Sun just touched the Morning The Morning Happy thing Supposed that He had come to dwell And Life would all be Spring! She felt herself supremer A Raised Ethereal Thing! Henceforth for Her What Holiday! Meanwhile Her wheeling King Trailed slow along the Orchards His haughty spangled Hems Leaving a new necessity! The want […]...
16. August When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled beeches start In a fringe of salty reeds; When my arms are elder-bushes, And the rangy lilac pushes Upward, upward through my heart; Summer, do your worst! Light your tinsel moon, and call on Your […]...
17. Emblems of Love She ONLY to be twin elements of joy In this extravagance of Being, Love, Were our divided natures shaped in twain; And to this hour the whole world must consent. Is it not very marvellous, our lives Can only come to this out of a long Strange sundering, with the years of the world between […]...
18. One Perfect Rose A single flow’r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet – One perfect rose. I knew the language of the floweret; ‘My fragile leaves,’ it said, ‘his heart enclose.’ Love long has taken for his amulet One perfect rose. Why is it no […]...
19. Mother, Summer, I My mother, who hates thunder storms, Holds up each summer day and shakes It out suspiciously, lest swarms Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there; But when the August weather breaks And rains begin, and brittle frost Sharpens the bird-abandoned air, Her worried summer look is lost, And I her son, though summer-born And summer-loving, none […]...
20. An Eastern Ballad I speak of love that comes to mind: The moon is faithful, although blind; She moves in thought she cannot speak. Perfect care has made her bleak. I never dreamed the sea so deep, The earth so dark; so long my sleep, I have become another child. I wake to see the world go wild....
21. In Love For Long I’ve been in love for long With what I cannot tell And will contrive a song For the intangible That has no mould or shape, From which there’s no escape. It is not even a name, Yet is all constancy; Tried or untried, the same, It cannot part from me; A breath, yet as still […]...
22. Halley's Comet Miss Murphy in first grade Wrote its name in chalk Across the board and told us It was roaring down the stormtracks Of the Milky Way at frightful speed And if it wandered off its course And smashed into the earth There’d be no school tomorrow. A red-bearded preacher from the hills With a wild […]...
23. The Barrier The Midnight wooed the Morning Star, And prayed her: “Love come nearer; Your swinging coldly there afar To me but makes you dearer.” The Morning Star was pale with dole As said she, low replying: “Oh, lover mine, soul of my soul, For you I too am sighing.” “But One ordained when we were born, […]...
24. Palm Interior of the hand. Sole that has come to walk Only on feelings. That faces upward And in its mirror Receives heavenly roads, which travel Along themselves. That has learned to walk upon water When it scoops, That walks upon wells, Transfiguring every path. That steps into other hands, Changes those that are like it […]...
25. Come, Let Us Find Come, let us find a cottage, love, That’s green for half a mile around; To laugh at every grumbling bee, Whose sweetest blossom’s not yet found. Where many a bird shall sing for you, And in your garden build its nest: They’ll sing for you as though their eggs Were lying in your breast, My […]...
26. Peonies This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready To break my heart As the sun rises, As the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers And they open – Pools of lace, White and pink – And all day the black ants climb over them, Boring their deep and mysterious holes […]...
27. Snow Geese Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last! What a task To ask Of anything, or anyone, Yet it is ours, And not by the century or the year, but by the hours. One fall day I heard Above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound I did not know, […]...
28. The Imperfect Lover I never asked you to be perfect-did I?- Though often I’ve called you sweet, in the invasion Of mastering love. I never prayed that you Might stand, unsoiled, angelic and inhuman, Pointing the way toward Sainthood like a sign-post. Oh yes, I know the way to heaven was easy. We found the little kingdom of […]...
29. Blue Ridge BORN a million years ago you stay here a million years… Watching the women come and live and be laid away… You and they thin-gray thin-dusk lovely. So it goes: either the early morning lights are lovely or the early morning star. I am glad I have seen racehorses, women, mountains....
30. Dusty Doors CHILD of the Aztec gods, How long must we listen here, How long before we go? The dust is deep on the lintels. The dust is dark on the doors. If the dreams shake our bones, what can we say or do? Since early morning we waited. Since early, early morning, child. There must be […]...
31. Such Singing in the Wild Branches It was spring And finally I heard him Among the first leaves – Then I saw him clutching the limb In an island of shade With his red-brown feathers All trim and neat for the new year. First, I stood still And thought of nothing. Then I began to listen. Then I was filled with […]...
32. Holy Sonnet XVII: Since She Whom I Loved Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead, And her soul early into heaven ravished, Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set. Here the admiring her my mind did whet To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head; But though […]...
33. The Wild Flower's Song As I wandered the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a Wild Flower Singing a song. ‘I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears And I felt delight. ‘In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But oh! met with scorn.’...
34. 435. Song-Where are the Joys I have met WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning, That danc’d to the lark’s early song? Where is the peace that awaited my wand’ring, At evening the wild-woods among? No more a winding the course of yon river, And marking sweet flowerets so fair, No more I trace the light footsteps of Pleasure, But […]...
35. BIEN LOIN D'ICI HERE is the chamber consecrate, Wherein this maiden delicate, And enigmatically sedate, Fans herself while the moments creep, Upon her cushions half-asleep, And hears the fountains plash and weep. Dorothy’s chamber undefiled. The winds and waters sing afar Their song of sighing strange and wild To lull to sleep the petted child. From head to […]...
36. 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. […]...
37. TO DAFFADILS Fair Daffadils, we weep to see You haste away so soon; As yet the early-rising sun Has not attain’d his noon. Stay, stay, Until the hasting day Has run But to the even-song; And, having pray’d together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you; We have as short […]...
38. Stanley Kunitz I used to imagine him Coming from his house, like Merlin Strolling with important gestures Through the garden Where everything grows so thickly, Where birds sing, little snakes lie On the boughs, thinking of nothing But their own good lives, Where petals float upward, Their colors exploding, And trees open their moist Pages of thunder […]...
39. Timber Wings THERE was a wild pigeon came often to Hinkley’s timber. Gray wings that wrote their loops and triangles on the walnuts and the hazel. There was a wild pigeon. There was a summer came year by year to Hinkley’s timber. Rainy months and sunny and pigeons calling and one pigeon best of all who came. […]...
40. An Exhortation Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets’ food is love and fame: If in this wide world of care Poets could but find the same With as little toil as they, Would they ever change their hue As the light chameleons do, Suiting it to every ray Twenty times a day? Poets are on this […]...