Apollo Musagetes

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1. Song of Callicles, The Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O Apollo! Are haunts meet for thee. But, where Helicon breaks down In cliff to the sea. Where the moon-silver’d inlets Send far their light voice Up the still vale of Thisbe, O speed, and rejoice! […]...
2. Hymn To Apollo God of the golden bow, And of the golden lyre, And of the golden hair, And of the golden fire, Charioteer Of the patient year, Where – where slept thine ire, When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath, Thy laurel, thy glory, The light of thy story, Or was I a worm […]...
3. I, Whom Apollo Somtime Visited I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited, Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done, Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at all The weariness of changes; nor perceive Immeasurable sands of centuries Drink of the blanching ink, or the loud sound Of generations beat the music down....
4. THE MUSAGETES IN the deepest nights of Winter To the Muses kind oft cried I: “Not a ray of morn is gleaming, Not a sign of daylight breaking; Bring, then, at the fitting moment, Bring the lamp’s soft glimm’ring lustre, ‘Stead of Phoebus and Aurora, To enliven my still labours!” Yet they left me in my slumbers, […]...
5. Black Harry's Team No soft-skinned Durham steers are they, No Devons plump and red, But brindled, black and iron-grey That mark the mountain-bred; For mountain-bred and mountain-broke, With sullen eyes agleam, No stranger’s hand could put a yoke On old Black Harry’s team. Pull out, pull out, at break of morn The creeks are running white, And Tiger, […]...
6. Far-Darting Apollo I saw the sun step like a gentleman Dressed in black and proud as sin. I saw the sun walk across London Like a young M. P., risen to the occasion. His step was light, his tread was dancing, His lips were smiling, his eyes glancing. Over the Cenotaph in Whitehall The sun took the […]...
7. Apollo Musagete, Poetry, And The Leader Of The Muses Nothing is given which is not taken. Little or nothing is taken which is not freely desired, freely, truly and fully. “You would not seek me if you had not found me”: this is true of all that is supremely desired and admired… “An enigma is an animal,” said the hurried, harried schoolboy: And a […]...
8. Jugurtha How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the African monarch, the splendid, As down to his death in the hollow Dark dungeons of Rome he descended, Uncrowned, unthroned, unattended; How cold are thy baths, Apollo! How cold are thy baths, Apollo! Cried the Poet, unknown, unbefriended, As the vision, that lured him to follow, With […]...
9. News For The Delphic Oracle I There all the golden codgers lay, There the silver dew, And the great water sighed for love, And the wind sighed too. Man-picker Niamh leant and sighed By Oisin on the grass; There sighed amid his choir of love Tall pythagoras. Plotinus came and looked about, The salt-flakes on his breast, And having stretched […]...
10. The Leader I wanna be the leader I wanna be the leader Can I be the leader? Can I? I can? Promise? Promise? Yippee I’m the leader I’m the leader OK what shall we do?...
11. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO Play, Phoebus, on thy lute, And we will sit all mute; By listening to thy lyre, That sets all ears on fire. Hark, hark! the God does play! And as he leads the way Through heaven, the very spheres, As men, turn all to ears!...
12. Apollo Belvedere A-sitttin’ on a cracker box an’ spittin’ in the stove, I took a sudden notion that I’d kindo’ like to rove; An’ so I bought a ticket, jest as easy as could be, From Pumpkinville in Idaho to Rome in Italy; An’ found myself in seven days of mostly atmosphere A-starin’ at a statoo called […]...
13. Archaic Torso Of Apollo We cannot know his legendary head With eyes like ripening fruit. And yet his torso Is still suffused with brilliance from inside, Like a lamp, in which his gaze, now turned to low, Gleams in all its power. Otherwise The curved breast could not dazzle you so, nor could A smile run through the placid […]...
14. Archaic Bust Of Apollo (After Rilke) We cannot know the indescribable face Where the eyes like apples ripened. Even so, His torso has a candelabra’s glow, His gaze, contained as in a mirror’s grace, Shines within it. Otherwise his breast Would not be dazzling. Nor would you recognize The smile that moves along his curving thighs, There where love’s […]...
15. Avalanche all is still on this starless night The mountain waits Quiescent as a cat Smoothing crag and chasm To a white fur Then against the black sky Puffs of snow Flutter from a jutting cliff Into obscurity A drumroll utters From the mountain’s throat And stops Reprehended by a silence so intense That even night […]...
16. Cliff Klingenhagen Cliff Klingenhagen had me in to dine With him one day; and after soup and meat, And all the other things there were to eat, Cliff took two glasses and filled one with wine And one with wormwood. Then, without a sign For me to choose at all, he took the draught Of bitterness himself, […]...
17. Sonnet 131: Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know’st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel. Yet, in good faith, some say that thee behold Thy face hath not the power to make love groan; To say they […]...
18. Evening Love Song Ornamental clouds Compose an evening love song; A road leaves evasively. The new moon begins A new chapter of our nights, Of those frail nights We stretch out and which mingle With these black horizontals....
19. To The Accuser Who is The God of This World Truly My Satan thou art but a Dunce And dost not know the Garment from the Man Every Harlot was a Virgin once Nor canst thou ever change Kate into Nan Tho thou art Worship’d by the Names Divine Of Jesus & Jehovah thou art still The Son of Morn in weary Nights decline The […]...
20. A Theory Of Prosody When Nellie, my old pussy Cat, was still in her prime, She would sit behind me As I wrote, and when the line Got too long she’d reach One sudden black foreleg down And paw at the moving hand, The offensive one. The first Time she drew blood I learned It was poetic to end […]...
21. On Mr. G. Herbert's Book, Entitled the Temple of Sacred Poe Know you fair, on what you look; Divinest love lies in this book, Expecting fire from your eyes, To kindle this his sacrifice. When your hands untie these strings, Think you’have an angel by th’ wings. One that gladly will be nigh, To wait upon each morning sigh. To flutter in the balmy air Of […]...
22. The Small Hours No more my little song comes back; And now of nights I lay My head on down, to watch the black And wait the unfailing gray. Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow; And sad’s a song that’s dumb; And sad it is to lie and know Another dawn will come....
23. 557. Song-Fairest Maid on Devon's Banks Chorus-Fairest maid on Devon banks, Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou wert wont to do? FULL well thou know’st I love thee dear, Couldst thou to malice lend an ear! O did not Love exclaim: “Forbear, Nor use a faithful lover so.” Fairest maid, &c. Then come, […]...
24. 372. Song-Kellyburn Braes THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn Braes, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; And he had a wife was the plague of his days, And the thyme it is wither’d, and rue is in prime. Ae day as the carl gaed up the lang glen, Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ thyme; […]...
25. Sonnet III There was a youth around whose early way White angels hung in converse and sweet choir, Teaching in summer clouds his thought to stray, In cloud and far horizon to desire. His life was nursed in beauty, like the stream Born of clear showers and the mountain dew, Close under snow-clad summits where they gleam […]...
26. I Saw Thy Form in Youthful Prime I saw thy form in youthful prime, Nor thought that pale decay Would steal before the steps of Time, And waste its bloom away, Mary! Yet still thy features wore that light, Which fleets not with the breath; And life ne’er look’d more truly bright Than in thy smile of death, Mary! As streams that […]...
27. The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean Unhappy about some far off things That are not my affair, wandering Along the coast and up the lean ridges, I saw in the evening The stars go over the lonely ocean, And a black-maned wild boar Plowing with his snout on Mal Paso Mountain. The old monster snuffled, “Here are sweet roots, Fat grubs, […]...
28. The Fairies Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl’s feather! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam; Some in the reeds Of the […]...
29. Lament for Zenocrate Black is the beauty of the brightest day, The golden belle of heaven’s eternal fire, That danced with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams: And all with faintness and for foul disgrace, He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night: Zenocrate […]...
30. The Road to Gundagai The mountain road goes up and down From Gundagai to Tumut Town And, branching off, there runs a track Across the foothills grim and black, Across the plains and ranges grey To Sydney city far away. It came by chance one day that I From Tumut rode to Gundagai, And reached about the evening tide […]...
31. Song Of Proserpine Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom Gods and men and beasts have birth, Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine. If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow in scent and hue Fairest children of […]...
32. Hayeswater A region desolate and wild. Black, chafing water: and afloat, And lonely as a truant child In a waste wood, a single boat: No mast, no sails are set thereon; It moves, but never moveth on: And welters like a human thing Amid the wild waves weltering. Behind, a buried vale doth sleep, Far down […]...
33. Misgivings When ocean-clouds over inland hills Sweep storming in late autumn brown, And horror the sodden valley fills, And the spire falls crashing in the town, I muse upon my country’s ills The tempest burning from the waste of Time On the world’s fairest hope linked with man’s foulest crime. Nature’s dark side is heeded now […]...
34. Caught in a Net Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not – The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me To kiss them like a feather. Her looming hair, her burning hands, Were tangled black and white. My face I buried there. I pray – So […]...
35. By the Hoof of the Wild Goat By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed From the cliff where she lay in the Sun Fell the Stone To the Tarn where the daylight is lost, So she fell from the light of the Sun And alone! Now the fall was ordained from the first With the Goat and the Cliff and the […]...
36. 1915 I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow, In the fields between La Bassйe and Bethune; Primroses and the first warm day of Spring, Red poppy floods of June, August, and yellowing Autumn, so To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow, And you’ve been everything. Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack In […]...
37. Overnight at the Riverside Tower Evening colors linger on mountain paths. Out beyond this study perched over River Gate, At the cliff’s edge, frail clouds stay All night. Among waves, a lone, shuddering Moon. As cranes trail off in flight, silent, Wolves snarl over their kill. I brood on Our wars, sleepless here and, to right A relentless Heaven and […]...
38. Kore As I was walking I came upon Chance walking the same road upon. As I sat down by chance to move Later if and as I might, Light the wood was, light and green, And what I saw before I had not seen. It was a lady accompanied By goat men leading her. Her hair […]...
39. 248. Pegasus at Wanlockhead WITH Pegasus upon a day, Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey lay, On foot the way was plying. Poor slipshod giddy Pegasus Was but a sorry walker; To Vulcan then Apollo goes, To get a frosty caulker. Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Threw by his coat and bonnet, And did Sol’s business in […]...
40. In Drear-Nighted December In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them; Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember Apollo’s summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They […]...