To The Men Of England

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1. England, My England WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near, Whispering terrible things and dear As the Song on your bugles blown, England Round the world on your bugles blown! Where shall the watchful sun, […]...
2. To A New England Poet Though skilled in Latin and in Greek, And earning fifty cents a week, Such knowledge, and the income, too, Should teach you better what to do: The meanest drudges, kept in pay, Can pocket fifty cents a day. Why stay in such a tasteless land, Where all must on a level stand, (Excepting people, at […]...
3. Happy Is England! I Could Be Content Happy is England! I could be content To see no other verdure than its own; To feel no other breezes than are blown Through its tall woods with high romances blent; Yet do I sometimes feel a languishment For skies Italian, and an inward groan To sit upon an Alp as on a throne, And […]...
4. To England at the Outbreak of the Balkan War A cloud has lowered that shall not soon pass o’er. The world takes sides: whether for impious aims With Tyranny whose bloody toll enflames A generous people to heroic war; Whether with Freedom, stretched in her own gore, Whose pleading hands and suppliant distress Still offer hearts that thirst for Righteousness A glorious cause to […]...
5. Indian Weavers WEAVERS, weaving at break of day, Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . . Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild, We weave the robes of a new-born child. Weavers, weaving at fall of night, Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . . Like the plumes of a […]...
6. To England There are no postage stamps that send letters Back to England three centuries ago, No postage stamps that make letters Travel back until the grave hasn’t been dug yet, And John Donne stands looking out the window, It is just beginning to rain this April morning, And the birds are falling into the trees Like […]...
7. Ye Mariners of England 1 Ye Mariners of England 2 That guard our native seas, 3 Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, 4 The battle and the breeze 5 Your glorious standard launch again 6 To match another foe! 7 And sweep through the deep, 8 While the stormy winds do blow, 9 While the battle rages loud […]...
8. A Dialogue between Old England and New New England. 1 Alas, dear Mother, fairest Queen and best, 2 With honour, wealth, and peace happy and blest, 3 What ails thee hang thy head, and cross thine arms, 4 And sit i’ the dust to sigh these sad alarms? 5 What deluge of new woes thus over-whelm 6 The glories of thy ever […]...
9. Weave in, Weave in, My Hardy Life WEAVE in! weave in, my hardy life! Weave yet a soldier strong and full, for great campaigns to come; Weave in red blood! weave sinews in, like ropes! the senses, sight weave in! Weave lasting sure! weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant weave! tire not! (We know not what the use, O […]...
10. Be Not Weary Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary, And tired out with working long and well, And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary, And heart and soul are all too sick to tell, These words have come to me like angel fingers Pressing the spirit’s eyelids down in sleep, ‘Oh let us not be […]...
11. Urbs Coronata (Song for the City College of New York) O youngest of the giant brood Of cities far-renowned; In wealth and power thou hast passed Thy rivals at a bound; And now thou art a queen, New York; And how wilt thou be crowned? “Weave me no palace-wreath of pride,” The royal city said; “Nor forge […]...
12. Come, Here Is Adieu To The City COME, here is adieu to the city And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me Watered with last night’s rain. The timbered country woos me With many a high and bough; And again in the shining fallows The ploughman follows the plough. The whole year’s sweat and study, And the whole […]...
13. Jerusalem: England! awake! awake! awake! England! awake! awake! awake! Jerusalem thy Sister calls! Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death And close her from thy ancient walls? Thy hills and valleys felt her feet Gently upon their bosoms move: Thy gates beheld sweet Zion’s ways: Then was a time of joy and love. And now the time returns again: […]...
14. New England Mind My mind matches this understand land. Outdoors the pencilled tree, the wind-carved drift, Indoors the constant fire, the careful thrift Are facts that I accept and understand. I have brought in red berries and green boughs- Berries of black alder, boughs of pine. They and the sunlight on them, both are mine. I need no […]...
15. I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded I hoed and trenched and weeded, And took the flowers to fair: I brought them home unheeded; The hue was not the wear. So up and down I sow them For lads like me to find, When I shall lie below them, A dead man out of mind. Some seed the birds devour, And some […]...
16. Epitaph No matter how he toil and strive The fate of every man alive With luck will be to lie alone, His empty name cut in a stone. Grim time the fairest fame will flout, But though his name be blotted out, And he forgotten with his peers, His stone may wear a year of years. […]...
17. Cardiac A mattock high he swung; I watched him at his toil; With never gulp of lung He gashed the ruddy soil. Thought I, I’d give my wealth To have his health. With fortune I would part, And privilege resign, Could I but have his heart, And he have mine. . . Then suddenly I knew […]...
18. When Klopstock England Defied When Klopstock England defied, Uprose William Blake in his pride; For old Nobodaddy aloft . . . and belch’d and cough’d; Then swore a great oath that made Heaven quake, And call’d aloud to English Blake. Blake was giving his body ease, At Lambeth beneath the poplar trees. From his seat then started he And […]...
19. Arion to a Dolphin, On His Majesty's passage into England Whom does this stately Navy bring? O! ’tis Great Britain’s Glorious King, Convey him then, ye Winds and Seas, Swift as Desire and calm as Peace. In your Respect let him survey What all his other Subjects pay; And prophesie to them again The splendid smoothness of his Reign. Charles and his mighty hopes you […]...
20. New England Here where the wind is always north-north-east And children learn to walk on frozen toes, Wonder begets an envy of all those Who boil elsewhere with such a lyric yeast Of love that you will hear them at a feast Where demons would appeal for some repose, Still clamoring where the chalice overflows And crying […]...
21. La Figlia che Piange O quam te memorem virgo… STAND on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair- Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise- Fling them to the ground and turn With a fugitive resentment in your eyes: But weave, weave the sunlight in your […]...
22. Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd (Comus.) Your hay it is mow’d, and your corn is reap’d; Your barns will be full, and your hovels heap’d: Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Chorus.) Come, my boys, come; Come, my boys, come; And merrily roar out Harvest Home. (Man.) We ha’ cheated the parson, […]...
23. The Englishman St George he was for England, And before he killed the dragon He drank a pint of English ale Out of an English flagon. For though he fast right readily In hair-shirt or in mail, It isn’t safe to give him cakes Unless you give him ale. St George he was for England, And right […]...
24. The Sower (Matthew, xiii.3) Ye sons of earth prepare the plough, Break up your fallow ground; The sower is gone forth to sow, And scatter blessings round. The seed that finds a stony soil Shoots forth a hasty blade; But ill repays the sower’s toil, Soon wither’d, scorch’d, and dead. The thorny ground is sure to balk […]...
25. To A Poet That Died Young Minstrel, what have you to do With this man that, after you, Sharing not your happy fate, Sat as England’s Laureate? Vainly, in these iron days, Strives the poet in your praise, Minstrel, by whose singing side Beauty walked, until you died. Still, though none should hark again, Drones the blue-fly in the pane, Thickly […]...
26. He Giveth His Beloved Sleep The long day passes with its load of sorrow: In slumber deep I lay me down to rest until tomorrow Thank God for sleep. Thank God for all respite from weary toiling, From cares that creep Across our lives like evil shadows, spoiling God’s kindly sleep. We plough and sow, and, as the hours grow […]...
27. Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat? Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat? Then crouch within the door Red is the Fire’s common tint But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions, It quivers from the Forge Without a color, but the light Of unanointed Blaze. Least Village has its Blacksmith Whose Anvil’s even ring Stands symbol for […]...
28. On The Loss Of The Royal George Written when the news arrived. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore. Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; […]...
29. Chance These things wondering I saw beneath the sun: That never yet the race was to the swift, The fight unto the mightiest to lift, Nor favors unto men whose skill had done Great works, nor riches ever unto one Wise man of understanding. All is drift Of time and chance, and none may stay or […]...
30. ENGLAND’S OPENERS A blackbird lands A good beer-barrel A man sits in a cave knitting A theatre in Copenhagen Abask the sea-wall Alice was demure and O All the way to Bury Amid the heather Among the lupins And after little suzie And it was his grief that kept him travelling And the baby miscarried And the […]...
31. Upon My Dear and Loving Husband his Going into England Jan. 16 O thou Most High who rulest all And hear’st the prayers of thine, O hearken, Lord, unto my suit And my petition sign. Into Thy everlasting arms Of mercy I commend Thy servant, Lord. Keep and preserve My husband, My dear friend. At Thy command, O Lord, he went, Nor nought could keep him back. […]...
32. HUDDERSFIELD – THE SECOND POETRY CAPITAL OF ENGLAND It brings to mind Swift leaving a fortune to Dublin ВЂ˜For the founding of a lunatic asylum – no place needs it more’. The breathing beauty of the moors and cheap accommodation Drew me but the total barbarity of the town stopped me from Writing a single line: from the hideous facade of its railway […]...
33. Elegy In A Country Churchyard The men that worked for England They have their graves at home: And bees and birds of England About the cross can roam. But they that fought for England, Following a falling star, Alas, alas for England They have their graves afar. And they that rule in England, In stately conclave met, Alas, alas for […]...
34. El Mahdi to the Australian Troops And wherefore have they come, this warlike band, That o’er the ocean many a weary day Have tossed; and now beside Suakim’s Bay, With faces stern and resolute, do stand, Waking the desert’s echoes with the drum Men of Australia, wherefore have ye come? To keep the Puppet Khedive on the throne, To strike a […]...
35. Appeal Daphnis dearest, wherefore weave me Webs of lies lest truth should grieve me? I could pardon much, believe me: Dower me, Daphnis, or bereave me, Kiss me, kill me, love me, leave me,- Damn me, dear, but don’t deceive me!...
36. 25. My Father was a Farmer: A Ballad MY father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O, And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O; He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O; For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O. Then out into the world my course I did […]...
37. The Hock-cart, or Harvest Home To the Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl of Westmoreland Come, sons of summer, by whose toil We are the lords of wine and oil; By whose tough labours, and rough hands, We rip up first, then reap our lands. Crown’d with the ears of corn, now come, And to the pipe sing Harvest Home. Come forth, […]...
38. My Dead Dream HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow. Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep? Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands […]...
39. TO THE HUSBANDMAN SMOOTHLY and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is cover’d; Yet will a deeper one, friend, cover thy bones at the last. Joyously plough’d and sow’d! Here food all living is budding, E’en from the side of the tomb Hope will not vanish away. 1789.*...
40. Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States 1 SUDDENLY, out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves, Like lightning it le’pt forth, half startled at itself, Its feet upon the ashes and the rags-its hands tight to the throats of kings. O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’ lives! O many a sicken’d heart! Turn back […]...