Requiescat

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1. REQUIESCAT Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, […]...
2. Requiescat Fair is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly slowly glides. It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah how soon to die! Her quiet dream of life this hour may cease. Her peaceful being slowly passes by To some more perfect peace....
3. In the Nower To J. De P. Deep in the grass outstretched I lie, Motionless on the hill; Above me is a cloudless sky, Around me all is still: There is no breath, no sound, no stir, The drowsy peace to break: I close my tired eyes it were So simple not to wake....
4. Slumber-Song Sleep; and my song shall build about your bed A paradise of dimness. You shall feel The folding of tired wings; and peace will dwell Throned in your silence: and one hour shall hold Summer, and midnight, and immensity Lulled to forgetfulness. For, where you dream, The stately gloom of foliage shall embower Your slumbering […]...
5. Heat O wind, rend open the heat, Cut apart the heat, Rend it to tatters. Fruit cannot drop Through this thick air Fruit cannot fall into heat That presses up and blunts The points of pears And rounds the grapes. Cut the heat Plough through it, Turning it on either side Of your path....
6. Requiescat Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall pass. The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the skies, The mound goes level in the rain. My love all cold and silent lies- Pray God it will not rise again!...
7. I had no Cause to be awake I had no Cause to be awake My Best was gone to sleep And Morn a new politeness took And failed to wake them up But called the others clear And passed their Curtains by Sweet Morning when I oversleep Knock Recollect to Me I looked at Sunrise Once And then I looked at Them […]...
8. To offer brave assistance To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone When One has failed to stop them Is Human but Divine To lend an Ample Sinew Unto a Nameless Man Whose Homely Benediction No other stopped to earn...
9. My Heart and I I. ENOUGH! we’re tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly The hard types of the mason’s knife, As heaven’s sweet life renews earth’s life With which we’re tired, my heart and I. II. You see we’re tired, my […]...
10. The End of the Day To B. T. Dead-tired, dog-tired, as the vivid day Fails and slackens and fades away. The sky that was so blue before With sudden clouds is shrouded o’er. Swiftly, stilly the mists uprise, Till blurred and grey the landscape lies. * * * * * * * All day we have plied the oar; all […]...
11. Music: An Ode WAS it light that spake from the darkness, Or music that shone from the word, When the night was enkindled with sound Of the sun or the first-born bird? Souls enthralled and entrammelled in bondage Of seasons that fall and rise, Bound fast round with the fetters of flesh, And blinded with light that dies, […]...
12. Cristina I. She should never have looked at me If she meant I should not love her! There are plenty… men, you call such, I suppose… she may discover All her soul to, if she pleases, And yet leave much as she found them: But I’m not so, and she knew it When she fixed me, […]...
13. Aftermath I learnt to write to you in happier days, And every letter was a piece I chipped From off my heart, a fragment newly clipped From the mosaic of life; its blues and grays, Its throbbing reds, I gave to earn your praise. To make a pavement for your feet I stripped My soul for […]...
14. What Is Life? Resembles Life what once was held of Light, Too ample in itself for human sight? An absolute Self an element ungrounded All, that we see, all colours of all shade [Image]By encroach of darkness made? Is very life by consciousness unbounded? And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath, A war-embrace of wrestling Life […]...
15. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
16. You love the Lord you cannot see You love the Lord you cannot see You write Him every day A little note when you awake And further in the Day. An Ample Letter How you miss And would delight to see But then His House is but a Step And Mine’s in Heaven You see....
17. Blue Roses Roses red and roses white Plucked I for my love’s delight. She would none of all my posies Bade me gather her blue roses. Half the world I wandered through, Seeking where such flowers grew. Half the world unto my quest Answered me with laugh and jest. Home I came at wintertide, But my silly […]...
18. Nero's Term Nero was not worried when he heard The prophecy of the Delphic Oracle. “Let him fear the seventy three years.” He still had ample time to enjoy himself. He is thirty. More than sufficient Is the term the god allots him To prepare for future perils. Now he will return to Rome slightly tired, But […]...
19. Mary McNeely Passer-by, To love is to find your own soul Through the soul of the beloved one. When the beloved one withdraws itself from your soul Then you have lost your soul. It is written: “I have a friend, But my sorrow has no friend.” Hence my long years of solitude at the home of my […]...
20. Love's Last Adieu The roses of Love glad the garden of life, Though nurtur’d ‘mid weeds dropping pestilent dew, Till Time crops the leaves with unmerciful knife, Or prunes them for ever, in Love’s last adieu! In vain, with endearments, we soothe the sad heart, In vain do we vow for an age to be true; The chance […]...
21. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
22. Water It was a Maine lobster town- Each morning boatloads of hands Pushed off for granite Quarries on the islands, And left dozens of bleak White frame houses stuck Like oyster shells On a hill of rock, And below us, the sea lapped The raw little match-stick Mazes of a weir, Where the fish for bait […]...
23. The Painter on Silk There was a man Who made his living By painting roses Upon silk. He sat in an upper chamber And painted, And the noises of the street Meant nothing to him. When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums, He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses Bursting in the sunshine, And smiled as […]...
24. My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130) My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And […]...
25. Sonnet CXXX My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask’d, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And […]...
26. Cambridge in the Long Where drowsy sound of college-chimes Across the air is blown, And drowsy fragrance of the limes, I lie and dream alone. A dazzling radiance reigns o’er all O’er gardens densely green, O’er old grey bridges and the small, Slow flood which slides between. This is the place; it is not strange, But known of old […]...
27. Rose-Morals I. Red. Would that my songs might be What roses make by day and night Distillments of my clod of misery Into delight. Soul, could’st thou bare thy breast As yon red rose, and dare the day, All clean, and large, and calm with velvet rest? Say yea say yea! Ah, dear my Rose, good-bye; […]...
28. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED My soul would one day go and seek For roses, and in Julia’s cheek A richess of those sweets she found, As in another Rosamond; But gathering roses as she was, Not knowing what would come to pass, It chanced a ringlet of her hair Caught my poor soul, as in a snare; Which ever […]...
29. Eyrie Between the mountain and the sea I’ve made a happy landing; And here a peace has come to me That passeth understanding; A shining faith and purity Beyond demanding. With palm below and pine above, Where wings of gulls are gleaming; By orange tree and olive grove, From walls of airy seeming, My roses beg […]...
30. The Trap She was taught desire in the street, Not at the angels’ feet. By the good no word was said Of the worth of the bridal bed. The secret was learned from the vile, Not from her mother’s smile. Home spoke not. And the girl Was caught in the public whirl. Do you say “She gave […]...
31. Beauty XXV And a poet said, “Speak to us of Beauty.” Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. […]...
32. The Village Garden To E. M. S. Here, where your garden fenced about and still is, Here, where the unmoved summer air is sweet With mixed delight of lavender and lilies, Dreaming I linger in the noontide heat. Of many summers are the trees recorders, The turf a carpet many summers wove; Old-fashioned blossoms cluster in the borders, […]...
33. The West Wind Beneath the forest’s skirts I rest, Whose branching pines rise dark and high, And hear the breezes of the West Among the threaded foliage sigh. Sweet Zephyr! why that sound of wo? Is not thy home among the flowers? Do not the bright June roses blow, To meet thy kiss at morning hours? And lo! […]...
34. Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played....
35. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
36. Tenebrae At the chill high tide of the night, At the turn of the fluctuant hours, When the waters of time are at height, In a vision arose on my sight The kingdoms of earth and the powers. In a dream without lightening of eyes I saw them, children of earth, Nations and races arise, Each […]...
37. Inscription For A Fountain On A Heath This Sycamore, oft musical with bees, Such tents the Patriarchs loved! O long unharmed May all its agйd boughs o’er-canopy The small round basin, which this jutting stone Keeps pure from falling leaves! Long may the Spring, Quietly as a sleeping infant’s breath, Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse! […]...
38. RESTLESS LOVE THROUGH rain, through snow, Through tempest go! ‘Mongst streaming caves, O’er misty waves, On, on! still on! Peace, rest have flown! Sooner through sadness I’d wish to be slain, Than all the gladness Of life to sustain All the fond yearning That heart feels for heart, Only seems burning To make them both smart. How […]...
39. The Men That Don't Fit In There’s a race of men that don’t fit in, A race that can’t stay still; So they break the hearts of kith and kin, And they roam the world at will. They range the field and they rove the flood, And they climb the mountain’s crest; Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood, And […]...
40. Desire WITH Thee a moment! Then what dreams have play! Traditions of eternal toil arise, Search for the high, austere and lonely way The Spirit moves in through eternities. Ah, in the soul what memories arise! And with what yearning inexpressible, Rising from long forgetfulness I turn To Thee, invisible, unrumoured, still: White for Thy whiteness […]...