The September Gale

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1. Dillard Sissman The buzzards wheel slowly In wide circles, in a sky Faintly hazed as from dust from the road. And a wind sweeps through the pasture where I lie Beating the grass into long waves. My kite is above the wind, Though now and then it wobbles, Like a man shaking his shoulders; And the tail […]...
2. I Rose Up at the Dawn of Day I rose up at the dawn of day ‘Get thee away! get thee away! Pray’st thou for riches? Away! away! This is the Throne of Mammon grey.’ Said I: This, sure, is very odd; I took it to be the Throne of God. For everything besides I have: It is only for riches that I […]...
3. A Calendar of Sonnets: September O golden month! How high thy gold is heaped! The yellow birch-leaves shine like bright coins strung On wands; the chestnut’s yellow pennons tongue To every wind its harvest challenge. Steeped In yellow, still lie fields where wheat was reaped; And yellow still the corn sheaves, stacked among The yellow gourds, which from the earth […]...
4. The King “Farewell, Romance!” the Cave-men said; “With bone well carved he went away, Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead, And jasper tips the spear to-day. Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance, And he with these. Farewell, Romance!” “Farewell, Romance!” the Lake-folk sighed; “We lift the weight of flatling years; The caverns of the mountain-side Hold […]...
5. September I, from a window where the Meuse is wide, Looked eastward out to the September night; The men that in the hopeless battle died Rose, and deployed, and stationed for the fight; A brumal army, vague and ordered large For mile on mile by some pale general,- I saw them lean by companies to the […]...
6. September On Jessore Road Millions of babies watching the skies Bellies swollen, with big round eyes On Jessore Road long bamboo huts Noplace to shit but sand channel ruts Millions of fathers in rain Millions of mothers in pain Millions of brothers in woe Millions of sisters nowhere to go One Million aunts are dying for bread One Million […]...
7. September Lo! a ripe sheaf of many golden days Gleaned by the year in autumn’s harvest ways, With here and there, blood-tinted as an ember, Some crimson poppy of a late delight Atoning in its splendor for the flight Of summer blooms and joys­ This is September....
8. Beggar To Beggar Cried ‘Time to put off the world and go somewhere And find my health again in the sea air,’ Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck, ‘And make my soul before my pate is bare.- ‘And get a comfortable wife and house To rid me of the devil in my shoes,’ Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck, […]...
9. September We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold: No clock counts this. When kisses are repeated and the arms hold There is no telling where time is. It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still: Behind the eye a star, Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell Time is nowhere. We stand; […]...
10. The Symptom of the Gale The Symptom of the Gale The Second of Dismay Between its Rumor and its Face Is almost Revelry The Houses firmer root The Heavens cannot be found The Upper Surfaces of things Take covert in the Ground The Mem’ry of the Sun Not Any can recall Although by Nature’s sterling Watch So scant an interval […]...
11. It Blows A Snowing Gale IT blows a snowing gale in the winter of the year; The boats are on the sea and the crews are on the pier. The needle of the vane, it is veering to and fro, A flash of sun is on the veering of the vane. Autumn leaves and rain, The passion of the gale....
12. September, The First Day Of School I My child and I hold hands on the way to school, And when I leave him at the first-grade door He cries a little but is brave; he does Let go. My selfish tears remind me how I cried before that door a life ago. I may have had a hard time letting go. […]...
13. Farewell Farewell to the bushy clump close to the river And the flags where the butter-bump hides in forever; Farewell to the weedy nook, hemmed in by waters; Farewell to the miller’s brook and his three bonny daughters; Farewell to them all while in prison I lie- In the prison a thrall sees naught but the […]...
14. Farewell Love and All Thy Laws Forever Farewell love and all thy laws forever; Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more. Senec and Plato call me from thy lore To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour. In blind error when I did persever, Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore, Hath taught me to set in trifles no store […]...
15. The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver “Son,” said my mother, When I was knee-high, “you’ve need of clothes to cover you, And not a rag have I. “There’s nothing in the house To make a boy breeches, Nor shears to cut a cloth with, Nor thread to take stitches. “There’s nothing in the house But a loaf-end of rye, And a […]...
16. The sage lectured brilliantly The sage lectured brilliantly. Before him, two images: “Now this one is a devil, And this one is me.” He turned away. Then a cunning pupil Changed the positions. Turned the sage again: “Now this one is a devil, And this one is me.” The pupils sat, all grinning, And rejoiced in the game. But […]...
17. My Bed is Covered Yellow My bed is covered yellow – Oh Sun, I sit on you Oh golden field I lay on you Oh money I dream of you More, More, cried the bed – talk to me more – Oh bed that taked the weight of the world – all the lost dreams laid on you Oh bed […]...
18. Late, Late, So Late Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light: so late! […]...
19. September 1961 This is the year the old ones, The old great ones Leave us alone on the road. The road leads to the sea. We have the words in our pockets, Obscure directions. The old ones Have taken away the light of their presence, We see it moving away over a hill Off to one side. […]...
20. Two Men There be two men of all mankind That I should like to know about; But search and question where I will, I cannot ever find them out. Melchizedek he praised the Lord, And gave some wine to Abraham; But who can tell what else he did Must be more learned than I am. Ucalegon he […]...
21. Late September Tang of fruitage in the air; Red boughs bursting everywhere; Shimmering of seeded grass; Hooded gentians all a’mass. Warmth of earth, and cloudless wind Tearing off the husky rind, Blowing feathered seeds to fall By the sun-baked, sheltering wall. Beech trees in a golden haze; Hardy sumachs all ablaze, Glowing through the silver birches. How […]...
22. The Peacock What’s riches to him That has made a great peacock With the pride of his eye? The wind-beaten, stone-grey, And desolate Three Rock Would nourish his whim. Live he or die Amid wet rocks and heather, His ghost will be gay Adding feather to feather For the pride of his eye....
23. Psalm 49 part 1 v.6-14 C. M. Pride and death; or, The vanity of life and riches. Why doth the man of riches grow To insolence and pride, To see his wealth and honors flow With every rising tide? [Why doth he treat the poor with scorn, Made of the self-same clay, And boast as though his flesh was […]...
24. Lost Star When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first Splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang ‘Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!’ But one cried of a sudden -‘It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light And one of the […]...
25. Daylight and Moonlight In broad daylight, and at noon, Yesterday I saw the moon Sailing high, but faint and white, As a schoolboy’s paper kite. In broad daylight, yesterday, I read a poet’s mystic lay; And it seemed to me at most As a phantom, or a ghost. But at length the feverish day Like a passion died […]...
26. The Aristocrat The Devil is a gentleman and askes you down to stay At his little place at What’sitsname (it isn’t far away). They say the sport is splendid; there is always something new, And fairy scenes, and fearful feats that none but he can do; He can shoot the feathered cherubs if they fly on the […]...
27. Elegy Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride On that darkest day. Oh, forever may He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow Young among the long […]...
28. In Spain Tagus, farewell! that westward with thy streams Turns up the grains of gold already tried With spur and sail, for I go to seek the Thames Gainward the sun that shewth her wealthy pride, And to the town which Brutus sought by dreams, Like bended moon doth lend her lusty side. My king, my country, […]...
29. Fist Iron growing in the dark, It dreams all night long And will not work. A flower That hates God, a child Tearing at itself, this one Closes on nothing. Friday, late, Detroit Transmission. If I live Forever, the first clouded light Of dawn will flood me In the cold streams North of Pontiac. It opens […]...
30. Green Grow The Rashes Green grow the rashes, O! Green grow the rashes, O! The sweetest hours that e’er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O! There’s nought but care on every han’ In every hour that passes, O; What signifies the life o’ man, An ’twere na for the lasses, O? The warl’ly race may riches chase, […]...
31. The Halt Before Rome September 1867 Is it so, that the sword is broken, Our sword, that was halfway drawn? Is it so, that the light was a spark, That the bird we hailed as the lark Sang in her sleep in the dark, And the song we took for a token Bore false witness of dawn? Spread in the sight […]...
32. September 22 It’s the day of the ram And the head of the year Rosh Ha’Shanah at Services I sat next to Mel Torme who outshone All comers with his bar Mitzvah heroics while on My left is Barnett Newman Big talker whose favorite Subjects include the horses And the stock market he Knows the odds the […]...
33. 32. Song-Green Grow the Rashes Chor.-Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e’er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O. THERE’S nought but care on ev’ry han’, In ev’ry hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o’ man, An’ ’twere na for the lasses, O. Green grow, &c. The war’ly race […]...
34. September 1 The golden-rod is yellow; 2 The corn is turning brown; 3 The trees in apple orchards 4 With fruit are bending down. 5 The gentian’s bluest fringes 6 Are curling in the sun; 7 In dusty pods the milkweed 8 Its hidden silk has spun. 9 The sedges flaunt their harvest, 10 In every […]...
35. The Snakes of September All summer I heard them Rustling in the shrubbery, Outracing me from tier To tier in my garden, A whisper among the viburnums, A signal flashed from the hedgerow, A shadow pulsing In the barberry thicket. Now that the nights are chill And the annuals spent, I should have thought them gone, In a torpor […]...
36. Limits Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset, There must be one (which, I am not sure) That I by now have walked for the last time Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone Who fixes in advance omnipotent laws, Sets up a secret and unwavering scale For all the shadows, dreams, […]...
37. September Song born 19.6.32 – deported 24.9.42 Undesirable you may have been, untouchable You were not. Not forgotten Or passed over at the proper time. As estimated, you died. Things marched, Sufficient, to that end. Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented Terror, so many routine cries. (I have made An elegy for myself it Is true) […]...
38. Nimrod in September When half the drowsy world’s a-bed And misty morning rises red, With jollity of horn and lusty cheer, Young Nimrod urges on his dwindling rout; Along the yellowing coverts we can hear His horse’s hoofs thud hither and about: In mulberry coat he rides and makes Huge clamour in the sultry brakes....
39. September 1913 What need you, being come to sense, But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence And prayer to shivering prayer, until You have dried the marrow from the bone? For men were born to pray and save: Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone, It’s with O’Leary in the grave. Yet they […]...
40. September's Baccalaureate September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets Crows and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher....