Night-Music

Related poetry:

1. At Night The wind is singing through the trees to-night, A deep-voiced song of rushing cadences And crashing intervals. No summer breeze Is this, though hot July is at its height, Gone is her gentler music; with delight She listens to this booming like the seas, These elemental, loud necessities Which call to her to answer their […]...
2. Quiet Night Thoughts Before my bed There is bright moonlight So that it seems Like frost on the ground: Lifting my head I watch the bright moon, Lowering my head I dream that I’m home....
3. Storm-Music O Music hast thou only heard The laughing river, the singing bird, The murmuring wind in the poplar-trees, Nothing but Nature’s melodies? Nay, thou hearest all her tones, As a Queen must hear! Sounds of wrath and fear, Mutterings, shouts, and moans, Madness, tumult, and despair, All she has that shakes the air With voices […]...
4. The Gardener IX: When I Go Alone at Night When I go alone at night to my Love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind Does not stir, the houses on both sides Of the street stand silent. It is my own anklets that grow loud At every step and I am ashamed. When I sit on my balcony and listen For his footsteps, leaves […]...
5. The Starlight Night Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there! Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves’-eyes! The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies! Wind-beat whitebeam! airy abeles set on a flare! Flake-doves sent floating […]...
6. 'Tis my first night beneath the Sun ‘Tis my first night beneath the Sun If I should spend it here Above him is too low a height For his Barometer Who Airs of expectation breathes And takes the Wind at prime But Distance his Delights confides To those who visit him...
7. Any Night Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine, The yellowing ash, all the trees Are gone, and I was older than All of them. I am older than the moon, Than the stars that fill my plate, Than the unseen planets that huddle Together here at the end of a year No one wanted. A year more […]...
8. The Starry Night That does not keep me from having a terrible need of shall I say the word religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars. Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother The town does not exist Except where one black-haired tree slips Up like a drowned woman into the hot […]...
9. A Night-Piece By Millet Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking Wind and sea. Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee, Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud’s o’ertaking Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee. One blown sail beneath […]...
10. Spring Night in the Imperial Chancellery Evening falls on palace walls shaded by flowering trees, with cry of birds Flying past on their way to roost. The stars quiver as they look down on the Myriad doors of the palace, and the moon’s light increases as she moves into The ninefold sky. Unable to sleep, I seem to hear the sound […]...
11. The Night is Darkening Around Me The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow ; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending Their bare boughs weighed with snow ; The storm is fast descending, And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, Wastes beyond wastes below […]...
12. The Breath Of Night The moon rises. The red cubs rolling In the ferns by the rotten oak Stare over a marsh and a meadow To the farm’s white wisp of smoke. A spark burns, high in heaven. Deer thread the blossoming rows Of the old orchard, rabbits Hop by the well-curb. The cock crows From the tree by […]...
13. A November Night There! See the line of lights, A chain of stars down either side the street Why can’t you lift the chain and give it to me, A necklace for my throat? I’d twist it round And you could play with it. You smile at me As though I were a little dreamy child Behind whose […]...
14. Enough It is enough for me by day To walk the same bright earth with him; Enough that over us by night The same great roof of stars is dim. I do not hope to bind the wind Or set a fetter on the sea It is enough to feel his love Blow by like music […]...
15. This night is irredeemable This night is irredeemable. Where you are, it is still bright. At the gates of Jerusalem, A black sun is alight. The yellow sun is hurting, Sleep, baby, sleep. The Jews in the Temple’s burning Buried my mother deep. Without rabbi, without blessing, Over her ashes, there, The Jews in the Temple’s burning Chanted the […]...
16. Night Is On The Downland Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland, On the hills where the wind goes over sheep-bitten turf, Where the bent grass beats upon the unplowed poorland And the pine-woods roar like the surf. Here the Roman lived on the wind-barren lonely, Dark now and haunted by the moorland fowl; None comes here now […]...
17. Butterfly Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, strong beyond the garden-wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting them? big white butterfly! Already it is October, and the wind blows strong to the sea From the hills where snow must have fallen, the wind […]...
18. At the Window The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter; While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters. Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede, Winding about their dimness the mist’s grey cerements, after The street lamps in the […]...
19. 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...
20. Lighthouse in the Night The sky a black sphere, The sea a black disk. The lighthouse opens Its solar fan on the coast. Spinning endlessly at night, Whom is it searching for When the mortal heart Looks for me in the chest? Look at the black rock Where it is nailed down. A crow digs endlessly But no longer […]...
21. This Is A Poem I Wrote At Night, Before The Dawn This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn: – After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles soaring, After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the first stars, And the horses cantered and romped away like the experience of skill; mastered and serene Power, grasped and governed […]...
22. Celestial Music I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God. She thinks someone listens in heaven. On earth she’s unusually competent. Brave too, able to face unpleasantness. We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it. I’m always […]...
23. Music Swims Back To Me Wait Mister. Which way is home? They turned the light out And the dark is moving in the corner. There are no sign posts in this room, Four ladies, over eighty, In diapers every one of them. La la la, Oh music swims back to me And I can feel the tune they played The […]...
24. Night (This night, agitated by the growing storm) This night, agitated by the growing storm, How it has suddenly expanded its dimensions, That ordinarily would have gone unnoticed, Like a cloth folded, and hidden in the folds of time. Where the stars give resistance it does not stop there, Neither does it begin within the forest’s depths, Nor show upon the surface of […]...
25. Night-Piece Ye hooded witches, baleful shapes that moan, Quench your fantastic lanterns and be still; For now the moon through heaven sails alone, Shedding her peaceful rays from hill to hill. The faun from out his dim and secret place Draws nigh the darkling pool and from his dream Half-wakens, seeing there his sylvan face Reflected, […]...
26. For Osip Mandelstam And the town is frozen solid in a vice, Trees, walls, snow, beneath a glass. Over crystal, on slippery tracks of ice, The painted sleighs and I, together, pass. And over St Peter’s there are poplars, crows There’s a pale green dome there that glows, Dim in the sun-shrouded dust. The field of heroes lingers […]...
27. The North Ship Legend I saw three ships go sailing by, Over the sea, the lifting sea, And the wind rose in the morning sky, And one was rigged for a long journey. The first ship turned towards the west, Over the sea, the running sea, And by the wind was all possessed And carried to a rich […]...
28. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the […]...
29. Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play'st How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st, Upon that blessèd wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers when thou gently sway’st The wiry concord that mine ear confounds, Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap To kiss the tender inward of thy hand, Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap, […]...
30. Last Night's Encounter a) Last night’s encounter Gave the little rat and me A terrible blow B) It’s my job therefore To make it clearly see That one of us must go...
31. A Sleepless Night April, and the last of the plum blossoms Scatters on the black grass Before dawn. The sycamore, the lime, The struck pine inhale The first pale hints of sky. An iron day, I think, yet it will come Dazzling, the light Rise from the belly of leaves and pour Burning from the cups Of poppies. […]...
32. The Night Cometh Cometh the night. The wind falls low, The trees swing slowly to and fro: Around the church the headstones grey Cluster, like children strayed away But found again, and folded so. No chiding look doth she bestow: If she is glad, they cannot know; If ill or well they spend their day, Cometh the night. […]...
33. Good-Night Then the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window glass. Must we to bed indeed? Well then, […]...
34. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
35. Spelt From Sibyl's Leaves Earnest, earthless, equal, attuneable, ‘ vaulty, voluminous, … stupendous Evening strains to be tíme’s vást, ‘ womb-of-all, home-of-all, hearse-of-all night. Her fond yellow hornlight wound to the west, ‘ her wild hollow hoarlight hung to the height Waste; her earliest stars, earl-stars, ‘ stárs principal, overbend us, Fíre-féaturing heaven. For earth ‘ her being has […]...
36. Andy the Night-Watch In my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted hickory cane, I slipped about with a bull’s-eye lantern From door to door on the square, As the midnight stars wheeled round, And the bell in the steeple murmured From the blowing of the wind; […]...
37. Some say goodnight at night Some say goodnight at night I say goodnight by day Good-bye the Going utter me Goodnight, I still reply For parting, that is night, And presence, simply dawn Itself, the purple on the height Denominated morn....
38. Incantation A white well In a black cave; A bright shell In a dark wave. A white rose Black brambles hood; Smooth bright snows In a dark wood. A flung white glove In a dark fight; A white dove On a wild black night. A white door In a dark lane; A bright core To bitter […]...
39. Snowy Night Last night, an owl In the blue dark Tossed An indeterminate number Of carefully shaped sounds into The world, in which, A quarter of a mile away, I happened To be standing. I couldn’t tell Which one it was – The barred or the great-horned Ship of the air – It was that distant. But, […]...
40. The Choir And Music Of Solitude And Silence Silence is a great blue bell Swinging and ringing, tinkling and singing, In measure’s pleasure, and in the supple symmetry of the soaring of the immense intense wings glinting against All the blue radiance above us and within us, hidden Save for the stars sparking, distant and unheard in their singing. And this is the […]...