Lover's Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book

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1. Lover's Gifts XXII: I Shall Gladly Suffer I shall gladly suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house, If only in some happy future I am born a herd-boy in the Brinda Forest. The herd-boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan Tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to Splash and plunge in the […]...
2. Lover's Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins Take back your coins, King’s Councillor. I am of those women you Sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never Seen a women. I failed in your bidding. Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in The stream, his tawny locks crowded on his shoulders, like […]...
3. Lover's Gifts XL: A Message Came A message came from my youth of vanished days, saying, ” I wait for You among the quivering of unborn May, where smiles ripen for tears And hours ache with songs unsung.” It says, “Come to me across the worn-out track of age, through The gates of death. For dreams fade, hopes fail, the fathered […]...
4. Lover's Gifts XIII: Last Night in the Garden Last night in the garden I offered you my youth’s foaming wine. You Lifted the cup to your lips, you shut your eyes and smiled while I raised your veil, unbound your tresses, drawing down upon my Breast your face sweet with its silence, last night when the moon’s Dream overflowed the world of slumber. […]...
5. Lover's Gifts II: Come to My Garden Walk Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that Press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some Chance joy, which like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet Elude. For lover’s gift is shy, it never tells its name, it flits Across the shade, spreading a shiver of […]...
6. Lover's Gifts XLVII: The Road Is The road is my wedded companion. She speaks to me under my feet all Day, she sings to my dreams all night. My meeting with her had no beginning, it begins endlessly at Each daybreak, renewing its summer in fresh flowers and songs, and Her every new kiss is the first kiss to me. The […]...
7. Lover's Gifts XLIII: Dying, You Have Left Behind Dying, you have left behind you the great sadness of the Eternal In my life. You have painted my thought’s horizon with the sunset Colours of your departure, leaving a track of tears across the Earth to love’s heaven. Clasped in your dear arms, life and death United in me in a marriage bond. I […]...
8. Lover's Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven Where is heaven? you ask me, my child,-the sages tell us it is Beyond the limits of birth and death, unswayed by the rhythm of day And night; it is not of the earth. But your poet knows that its eternal hunger is for time and Space, and it strives evermore to be born in […]...
9. The Book of Thel THEL’S MOTTO 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? 3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? 4 Or Love in a golden bowl? I 1.1 The daughters of the Seraphim led round their sunny flocks, 1.2 All but the youngest: she in […]...
10. A Lovers' Quarrel We two were lovers, the Sea and I; We plighted our troth ‘neath a summer sky. And all through the riotous ardent weather We dreamed, and loved, and rejoiced together. * * * At times my lover would rage and storm. I said: ‘No matter, his heart is warm.’ Whatever his humour, I loved his […]...
11. Lover's Gifts VIII: There Is Room for You There is room for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice. My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you Away? Your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling Smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the Rain […]...
12. Lover's Gifts LII: Tired of Waiting Tired of waiting, you burst your bonds, impatient flowers, before The winter had gone. Glimpses of the unseen comer reached your Wayside watch, and you rushed out running and panting, impulsive Jasmines, troops of riotous roses. You were the first to march to the breach of death, your Clamour of colour and perfume troubled the […]...
13. Lines Written at Thorp Green That summer sun, whose genial glow Now cheers my drooping spirit so Must cold and distant be, And only light our northern clime With feeble ray, before the time I long so much to see. And this soft whispering breeze that now So gently cools my fevered brow, This too, alas, must turn To a […]...
14. Lines Written In Dejection When have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long wavering bodies Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most noble ladies, For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone. The holy centaurs of the hills are vanished; I have nothing but the […]...
15. The Way That Lovers Use The Way that lovers use is this; They bow, catch hands, with never a word, And their lips meet, and they do kiss, ВЂ”So I have heard. They queerly find some healing so, And strange attainment in the touch; There is a secret lovers know, ВЂ”I have read as much. And theirs no longer joy […]...
16. Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many An evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of Bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth Had come to her over the young shoots of rice. Her pet name is known here […]...
17. Lover's Gifts XLII: Are You a Mere Picture Are you a mere picture, and not as true as those stars, true as This dust? They throb with the pulse of things, but you are Immensely aloof in your stillness, painted form. The day was when you walked with me, your breath warm, your Limbs singing of life. My world found its speech in […]...
18. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
19. The Lovers of the Poor arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies’ Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars across the boulevard brag Of proud, seamed faces with mercy and murder hinting Here, there, interrupting, all deep and debonair, The pink paint on the innocence of fear; Walk in a gingerly manner up the […]...
20. Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
21. Lines Written In Recapitulation I could not bring this splendid world nor any trading beast In charge of it, to defer, no, not to give ear, not in the least Appearance, to my handsome prophecies, Which here I ponder and put by. I am left simpler, less encumbered, by the consciousness That I shall by no pebble in my […]...
22. Lines Written in Kensington Gardens In this lone, open glade I lie, Screen’d by deep boughs on either hand; And at its end, to stay the eye, Those black-crown’d, red-boled pine-trees stand! Birds here make song, each bird has his, Across the girdling city’s hum. How green under the boughs it is! How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come! Sometimes a […]...
23. He Tells Of A Valley Full Of Lovers I dreamed that I stood in a valley, and amid sighs, For happy lovers passed two by two where I stood; And I dreamed my lost love came stealthily out of the wood With her cloud-pale eyelids falling on dream-dimmed eyes: I cried in my dream, O women, bid the young men lay Their heads […]...
24. A Garden, Written after the Civil Wars SEE how the flowers, as at parade, Under their colours stand display’d: Each regiment in order grows, That of the tulip, pink, and rose. But when the vigilant patrol Of stars walks round about the pole, Their leaves, that to the stalks are curl’d, Seem to their staves the ensigns furl’d. Then in some flower’s […]...
25. TO AN OLD DANISH SONG-BOOK Welcome, my old friend, Welcome to a foreign fireside, While the sullen gales of autumn Shake the windows. The ungrateful world Has, it seems, dealt harshly with thee, Since, beneath the skies of Denmark, First I met thee. There are marks of age, There are thumb-marks on thy margin, Made by hands that clasped thee […]...
26. In Lovers' Lane I know a place for loitering feet Deep in the valley where the breeze Makes melody in lichened boughs, And murmurs low love-litanies. There slender harebells nod and dream, And pale wild roses offer up The fragrance of their golden hearts, As from some incense-brimméd cup. It holds the sunshine sifted down Softly through many […]...
27. Crying to be written Dawn has reached the ridges to the north and a thin Line of light chased the night west; it is the best Time of day for me – a cup of coffee, Benson & Scud Pretending to sleep in their baskets at my feet, I am seated, ready to write knowing the lounge fire Is […]...
28. The Author to her Book Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did’st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad expos’d to public view, Made thee in rags, halting to th’ press to trudge, Where errors were not lessened (all may judge). At thy return my blushing […]...
29. Written Before Re-Reading King Lear O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute. Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay Must I burn through; once more humbly assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit. Chief Poet! […]...
30. 241. Written in Friars' Carse Hermitage (Second Version) THOU whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deckt in silken stole, Grave these counsels on thy soul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night,-in darkness lost; Hope not sunshine ev’ry hour, Fear not clouds will always lour. As Youth and Love with sprightly dance, Beneath […]...
31. The Shrubbery, Written in a Time of Affliction Oh happy shades to me unblest! Friendly to peace, but not to me! How ill the scene that offers rest, And heart that cannot rest, agree! This glassy stream, that spreading pine, Those alders quiv’ring to the breeze, Might sooth a soul less hurt than mine, And please, if any thing could please. But fix’d […]...
32. The Cautious Lovers Silvia, let’s from the Crowd retire; For, What to you and me (Who but each other do desire) Is all that here we see? Apart we’ll live, tho’ not alone; For, who alone can call Those, who in Desarts live with One, If in that One they’ve All? The World a vast Meander is, Where […]...
33. A Lovers' Quarrel I. Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last night’s rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love’s away! I’d as lief that the blue were grey, II. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell, With a foaming head […]...
34. The Book of Urizen: Chapter II 1. Earth was not: nor globes of attraction The will of the Immortal expanded Or contracted his all flexible senses. Death was not, but eternal life sprung 2. The sound of a trumpet the heavens Awoke & vast clouds of blood roll’d Round the dim rocks of Urizen, so nam’d That solitary one in Immensity […]...
35. Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh, Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky; Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod, With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod; With those who, scattered far, perchance deplore, Like me, the happy scenes they knew before: Oh! as I trace again […]...
36. Lover's Gifts V: I Would Ask For Still More I would ask for still more, if I had the sky with all its stars, And the world with its endless riches; but I would be content with The smallest corner of this earth if only she were mine....
37. Beast, Book, Body I was sick of being a woman, Sick of the pain, The irrelevant detail of sex, My own concavity Uselessly hungering And emptier whenever it was filled, And filled finally By its own emptiness, Seeking the garden of solitude Instead of men. The white bed In the green garden I looked forward To sleeping alone […]...
38. Lover's Gifts IV: She Is Near to My Heart She is near to my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is Sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life Flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with Serene abandonment. My songs are one with my love, like the murmur Of […]...
39. Corn Grinders O little mouse, why dost thou cry While merry stars laugh in the sky? Alas! alas! my lord is dead! Ah, who will ease my bitter pain? He went to seek a millet-grain In the rich farmer’s granary shed; They caught him in a baited snare, And slew my lover unaware: Alas! alas! my lord […]...
40. Lover's Gifts XXXIX: There Is a Looker-On There is a looker-on who sits behind my eyes. I seems he has seen Things in ages and worlds beyond memory’s shore, and those Forgotten sights glisten on the grass and shiver on the leaves. He Has seen under new veils the face of the one beloved, in twilight Hours of many a nameless star. […]...