He Hears That His Beloved Has Become Engaged

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1. She Hears The Storm There was a time in former years While my roof-tree was his When I should have been distressed by fears At such a night as this! I should have murmured anxiously, ‘The prickling rain strikes cold; His road is bare of hedge or tree, And he is getting old.’ But now the fitful chimney-roar, The […]...
2. Sonnets 10: Oh, My Beloved, Have You Thought Of This Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this: How in the years to come unscrupulous Time, More cruel than Death, will tear you from my kiss, And make you old, and leave me in my prime? How you and I, who scale together yet A little while the sweet, immortal height No pilgrim may remember […]...
3. What The Dog Perhaps Hears If an inaudible whistle Blown between our lips Can send him home to us, Then silence is perhaps The sound of spiders breathing And roots mining the earth; It may be asparagus heaving, Headfirst, into the light And the long brown sound Of cracked cups, when it happens. We would like to ask the dog […]...
4. Lord, what a Beloved is mine! Lord, what a Beloved is mine! I have a sweet quarry; I possess In my breast a hundred meadows from his reed. When in anger the messenger comes and repairs towards me, He says, “Whither are you fleeing? I have business with you.” Last night I asked the new moon concerning my Moon. The Moon […]...
5. Sonnet 20 – Beloved, my Beloved, when I think Beloved, my Beloved, when I think That thou wast in the world a year ago, What time I sat alone here in the snow And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink No moment at thy voice, but, link by link, Went counting all my chains as if that so They never could fall off […]...
6. He Hears The Cry Of The Sedge I wander by the edge Of this desolate lake Where wind cries in the sedge: Until the axle break That keeps the stars in their round, And hands hurl in the deep The banners of East and West, And the girdle of light is unhound, Your breast will not lie by the breast Of your […]...
7. Sonnet 44 – Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on […]...
8. The Well-Beloved I wayed by star and planet shine Towards the dear one’s home At Kingsbere, there to make her mine When the next sun upclomb. I edged the ancient hill and wood Beside the Ikling Way, Nigh where the Pagan temple stood In the world’s earlier day. And as I quick and quicker walked On gravel […]...
9. To The Memory Of My Beloved, The Author, Mr William Shakespeare, And What He Hath Left Us To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. ‘Tis true, and all men’s suffrage. But these ways Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; For silliest ignorance […]...
10. A SIMPLE SONG Come to me with the full moon, Tell me a word or two, All the garden will be soon Sprinkled with lustrous dew. Hold your flute, your dappled scarf, Knock on the front door, If the living can long and love, The dead can even more. Tell me whom you know there, Who can hold […]...
11. A Poet To His Beloved I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, And with heart more old than the horn That is brimmed from the pale fire of time: White woman with numberless dreams, I bring you my passionate rhyme....
12. He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes Fasten your hair with a golden pin, And bind up every wandering tress; I bade my heart build these poor rhymes: It worked at them, day out, day in, Building a sorrowful loveliness Out of the battles of old times. You need but lift a pearl-pale hand, And bind up your long hair and sigh; […]...
13. Seeking the Beloved To those who love the Lord I speak; Is my Beloved near? The Bridegroom of my soul I seek, Oh! when will He appear? Though once a man of grief and shame, Yet now He fills a throne, And bears the greatest, sweetest name, That earth or heaven have known. Grace flies before, and love […]...
14. Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me COME, my beloved, hear from me Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise A wren’s flight higher toward the skies; Or far from cities, brown and bare, Play at the least in open air. In all the tales men hear us tell Still let the unfathomed ocean swell, Or shallower […]...
15. PROXIMITY OF THE BELOVED ONE I THINK of thee, whene’er the sun his beams O’er ocean flings; I think of thee, whene’er the moonlight gleams In silv’ry springs. I see thee, when upon the distant ridge The dust awakes; At midnight’s hour, when on the fragile bridge The wanderer quakes. I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high, With […]...
16. Sonnets 08: And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Du And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head, This body of flame and steel, before the gust Of Death, or under his autumnal frost, Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead Than the first leaf that fell, […]...
17. World Was In The Face Of The Beloved World was in the face of the beloved, But suddenly it poured out and was gone: World is outside, world can not be grasped. Why didn’t I, from the full, beloved face As I raised it to my lips, why didn’t I drink World, so near that I couldn’t almost taste it? Ah, I drank. […]...
18. Sonnet to My Beloved Daughter WHEN FATE in ruthless rage assail’d my breast, And Heaven relentless seal’d the harsh decree; HOPE, placid soother of the mind distress’d; To calm my rending sorrows­gave me THEE. In all the charms of innocence array’d, ‘Tis thine to sprinkle patience on my woes; As from thy voice celestial comfort flows, Glancing bright lustre o’er […]...
19. Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain Beloved, let us once more praise the rain. Let us discover some new alphabet, For this, the often praised; and be ourselves, The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf, The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone, And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,- Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion, Beneath […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. He Bids His Beloved Be At Peace I hear the Shadowy Horses, their long manes a-shake, Their hoofs heavy with tumult, their eyes glimmering white; The North unfolds above them clinging, creeping night, The East her hidden joy before the morning break, The West weeps in pale dew and sighs passing away, The South is pouring down roses of crimson fire: O […]...
22. He Wishes His Beloved Were Dead Were you but lying cold and dead, And lights were paling out of the West, You would come hither, and bend your head, And I would lay my head on your breast; And you would murmur tender words, Forgiving me, because you were dead: Nor would you rise and hasten away, Though you have the […]...
23. He Thinks Of Those Who Have Spoken Evil Of His Beloved Half close your eyelids, loosen your hair, And dream about the great and their pride; They have spoken against you everywhere, But weigh this song with the great and their pride; I made it out of a mouthful of air, Their children’s children shall say they have lied....
24. Sonnet 25 – A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace Were changed to long despairs, till God’s […]...
25. Sonnet 27 – My own Beloved, who hast lifted me My own Beloved, who hast lifted me From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown, And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully Shines out again, as all the angels see, Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own, Who camest to me when the world was gone, […]...
26. MY PERFECT ROSE At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet; Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’. […]...
27. Dockery And Son ‘Dockery was junior to you, Wasn’t he?’ said the Dean. ‘His son’s here now.’ Death-suited, visitant, I nod. ‘And do You keep in touch with-‘ Or remember how Black-gowned, unbreakfasted, and still half-tight We used to stand before that desk, to give ‘Our version’ of ‘these incidents last night’? I try the door of where […]...
28. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
29. The Married Lover Why, having won her, do I woo? Because her spirit’s vestal grace Provokes me always to pursue, But, spirit-like, eludes embrace; Because her womanhood is such That, as on court-days subjects kiss The Queen’s hand, yet so near a touch Affirms no mean familiarness; Nay, rather marks more fair the height Which can with safety […]...
30. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
31. Room 4: The Painter Chap He gives me such a bold and curious look, That young American across the way, As if he’d like to put me in a book (Fancies himself a poet, so they say.) Ah well! He’ll make no “document” of me. I lock my door. Ha! ha! Now none shall see. . . . Pictures, just […]...
32. Full of Life, Now FULL of life, now, compact, visible, I, forty years old the Eighty-third Year of The States, To one a century hence, or any number of centuries hence, To you, yet unborn, these, seeking you. When you read these, I, that was visible, am become invisible; Now it is you, compact, visible, realizing my poems, seeking […]...
33. The Young Ones, Flip Side In tight pants, tight skirts, Stretched or squeezed, Youth hurts, Crammed in, bursting out, Flesh will sing And hide its doubt In nervous hips, hopping glance, Usurping rouge, Provoking stance. Put off, or put on, Youth hurts. And then It’s gone....
34. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
35. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
36. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
37. I Keep Six Honest I keep six honest serving-men (They taught me all I knew); Their names are What and Why and When And How and Where and Who. I send them over land and sea, I send them east and west; But after they have worked for me, I give them all a rest. I let them rest […]...
38. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
39. Circumstantial Evidence She does not mind a good cigar (The kind, that is, I smoke); She thinks all men quite stupid are, (But laughs whene’er I joke). She says she does not care for verse (But praises all I write); She says that punning is a curse, (But then mine are so bright!) She does not like […]...
40. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...