Chapel Deacon

Related poetry:

1. 324. Song-The Charms of Lovely Davies O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours, That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair Than aught they ever gave us, Ere they rehearse, in equal verse, The charms o’ lovely Davies. Each eye it cheers when she appears, Like Phoebus in the morning, When […]...
2. An Epitaph On A Child Of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel Weep with me, all you that read This little story; And know, for whom a tear you shed Death’s self is sorry. ‘Twas a child that so did thrive In grace and feature, As heaven and nature seemed to strive Which owned the creature. Years he numbered scarce thirteen When fates turned cruel, Yet three […]...
3. 259. A New Psalm for the Chapel of Kilmarnock O SING a new song to the Lord, Make, all and every one, A joyful noise, even for the King His restoration. The sons of Belial in the land Did set their heads together; Come, let us sweep them off, said they, Like an o’erflowing river. They set their heads together, I say, They set […]...
4. Deacon Taylor I belonged to the church, And to the party of prohibition; And the villagers thought I died of eating watermelon. In truth I had cirrhosis of the liver, For every noon for thirty years, I slipped behind the prescription partition In Trainor’s drug store And poured a generous drink From the bottle marked “Spiritus frumenti.”...
5. The Chapel in Lyonesse SIR OZANA. All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunday, Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man came a-near. Naked to the waist was I, And deep within my breast did lie, Though no man any blood could spy, The truncheon of a spear. No meat did ever pass my lips Those […]...
6. The smouldering embers blush The smouldering embers blush Oh Hearts within the Coal Hast thou survived so many years? The smouldering embers smile Soft stirs the news of Light The stolid seconds glow One requisite has Fire that lasts Prometheus never knew...
7. To The Chapel Bell “Lo I, the man who erst the Muse did ask Her deepest notes to swell the Patriot’s meeds, Am now enforst a far unfitter task For cap and gown to leave my minstrel weeds,” For yon dull noise that tinkles on the air Bids me lay by the lyre and go to morning prayer. Oh […]...
8. Ash-Boughs a. Not of all my eyes see, wandering on the world, Is anything a milk to the mind so, so sighs deep Poetry to it, as a tree whose boughs break in the sky. Say it is ashboughs: whether on a December day and furled Fast уr they in clammyish lashtender combs creep Apart wide […]...
9. When The Sun Come After Rain WHEN the sun comes after rain And the bird is in the blue, The girls go down the lane Two by two. When the sun comes after shadow And the singing of the showers, The girls go up the meadow, Fair as flowers. When the eve comes dusky red And the moon succeeds the sun, […]...
10. A Game of Fives Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks. Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! Five winsome girls, […]...
11. The Hosting Of The Sidhe The host is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare; Caoilte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving our eyes are agleam, Our arms […]...
12. Sonnet 18 – I never gave a lock of hair away I never gave a lock of hair away To a man, Dearest, except this to thee, Which now upon my fingers thoughtfully, I ring out to the full brown length and say ‘Take it.’ My day of youth went yesterday; My hair no longer bounds to my foot’s glee, Nor plant I it from rose […]...
13. My Chapel In idle dream with pipe in hand I looked across the Square, And saw the little chapel stand In eloquent despair. A ruin of the War it was, A dreary, dingy mess: It worried me a lot because My hobby’s happiness. The shabby Priest said: ‘You are kind. Time leaves us on the lurch, And […]...
14. I Saw a Chapel I saw a chapel all of gold That none did dare to enter in, And many weeping stood without, Weeping, mourning, worshipping. I saw a serpent rise between The white pillars of the door, And he forc’d and forc’d and forc’d, Down the golden hinges tore. And along the pavement sweet, Set with pearls and […]...
15. The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay": A Logical Story Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, And then, of a sudden, it ah, but stay, I’ll tell you what happened without delay, Scaring the parson into fits, Frightening people out of their wits, Have you ever heard […]...
16. St Michael's Chapel When the vexed hubbub of our world of gain Roars round about me as I walk the street, The myriad noise of Traffic, and the beat Of Toil’s incessant hammer, the fierce strain Of struggle hand to hand and brain to brain, Ofttimes a sudden dream my sense will cheat, The gaudy shops, the sky-piled […]...
17. Rugby Chapel Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither’d leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent; hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play! The lights come out in the street, In the school-room windows; but cold, Solemn, unlighted, austere, Through the gathering darkness, […]...
18. There Were Dry Red Days by Sharmagne Leland-St. John There were dry red days Devoid of clouds Devoid of breeze Sound bruised My burning bones Dirt cracked my hands And caked my cheeks No buds on limbs of trees No birds on branches No hope of rain Scrawny chickens Kicked up dust Scratching for food That wasn’t there In the […]...
19. Clifton Chapel This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts of youth, And heard the words that one by one The touch of Life has turn’d to truth. Here in a day that is not far, You too may speak with noble ghosts Of manhood and the vows of war You made before […]...
20. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON’S CHAPEL DEDICATED TO MR JOHN MERRIFIELD, COUNSELLOR AT LAW RARE TEMPLES THOU HAST SEEN, I KNOW, AND RICH FOR IN AND OUTWARD SHOW; SURVEY THIS CHAPEL BUILT, ALONE, WITHOUT OR LIME, OR WOOD, OR STONE. THEN SAY, IF ONE THOU’ST SEEN MORE FINE THAN THIS, THE FAIRIES’ ONCE, NOW THINE. […]...
21. The Moon, how definite its orb! (fragment) The Moon, how definite its orb! Yet gaze again, and with a steady gaze ‘Tis there indeed, but where is it not? It is suffused o’er all the sapphire Heaven, Trees, herbage, snake-like stream, unwrinkled Lake, Whose very murmur does of it partake And low and close the broad smooth mountain Is more a thing […]...
22. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love Than terrors of red flame and thundering. The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring: A bird at evening flying to its nest Tells me of One who had no place of […]...
23. You taught me Waiting with Myself You taught me Waiting with Myself Appointment strictly kept You taught me fortitude of Fate This also I have learnt An Altitude of Death, that could No bitterer debar Than Life had done before it Yet there is a Science more The Heaven you know to understand That you be not ashamed Of Me in […]...
24. Dream Girl YOU will come one day in a waver of love, Tender as dew, impetuous as rain, The tan of the sun will be on your skin, The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech, You will pose with a hill-flower grace. You will come, with your slim, expressive arms, A poise of the head […]...
25. The Morning Star IN the black pool of the midnight Lu has slung the morning star, And its foam in rippling silver whitens into day afar Falling on the mountain rampart piled with pearl above our glen, Only you and I, beloved, moving in the fields of men. In the dark tarn of my spirit, love, the morning […]...
26. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
27. Heroes This war’s dead heroes, who has seen them? They rise in smoke above the burning city, Faint clouds, dissolving into sky – And who sifting the Libyan sand can find The tracery of a human hand, The faint impression of an absent mind, The fade-out of a soldier’s day dream? You’ll know your love no […]...
28. The Young Soldier It is not death Without hereafter To one in dearth Of life and its laughter, Nor the sweet murder Dealt slow and even Unto the martyr Smiling at heaven: It is the smile Faint as a (waning) myth, Faint, and exceeding small On a boy’s murdered mouth....
29. How to Die Dark clouds are smouldering into red While down the craters morning burns. The dying soldier shifts his head To watch the glory that returns; He lifts his fingers toward the skies Where holy brightness breaks in flame; Radiance reflected in his eyes, And on his lips a whispered name. You’d think, to hear some people […]...
30. DECLARATION OF WAR OH, would I resembled The country girls fair, Who rosy-red ribbons And yellow hats wear! To believe I was pretty I thought was allow’d; In the town I believed it When by the youth vow’d. Now that Spring hath return’d, All my joys disappear; The girls of the country Have lured him from here. To […]...
31. We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
32. Her little Parasol to lift Her little Parasol to lift And once to let it down Her whole Responsibility To imitate be Mine. A Summer further I must wear, Content if Nature’s Drawer Present me from sepulchral Crease As blemishless, as Her....
33. Juggler A ball will bounce; but less and less. It’s not A light-hearted thing, resents its own resilience. Falling is what it loves, and the earth falls So in our hearts from brilliance, Settles and is forgot. It takes a sky-blue juggler with five red balls To shake our gravity up. Whee, in the air The […]...
34. Like Time's insidious wrinkle Like Time’s insidious wrinkle On a beloved Face We clutch the Grace the tighter Though we resent the crease The Frost himself so comely Dishevels every prime Asserting from his Prism That none can punish him...
35. The Greatness Of The World Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind, Until on the strand Of its billows I land, My anchor cast forth where the breeze blows no more, And Creation’s last boundary stands on the shore. I saw infant stars into being arise, For thousands […]...
36. As Slow Our Ship As slow our ship her foamy track Against the wind was cleaving, Her trembling pennant still look’d back To that dear isle ’twas leaving. So loath we part from all we love, From all the links that bind us; So turn our hearts as on we rove, To those we’ve left behind us. When, round […]...
37. Birches When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon […]...
38. The Burning of the Leaves Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke Wandering slowly into the weeping mist. Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves! A flame seizes the smouldering ruin, and bites On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist. The last hollyhock’s fallen tower is […]...
39. The Hawk and the Babe [Dedicated to Raymond Radclyffe] I am that hawk of gold Proud in adamantine poise On the pillars of torqoise, See, beyond the starry fold, Where a darkling orb is rolled. There, beneath a grove of yew, Plays a babe. Should I despise Such a foam of gold, and eyes Burning beryline, so blue That the […]...
40. Under the Moon Under the crescent moon’s faint glow The washerman’s bat resounds afar, And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly. But my heart has gone to the Tartar war, To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow, Calling my husband back to me....