Lament (O how all things are far removed)

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1. MORNING LAMENT OH thou cruel deadly-lovely maiden, Tell me what great sin have I committed, That thou keep’st me to the rack thus fasten’d, That thou hast thy solemn promise broken? ‘Twas but yestere’en that thou with fondness Press’d my hand, and these sweet accents murmured: “Yes, I’ll come, I’ll come when morn approacheth, Come, my friend, […]...
2. The Maid's Lament I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet, could he speak, Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once I sought, And wearied all my thought To vex myself and him: I now would give My love […]...
3. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
4. THE SHEPHERD'S LAMENT ON yonder lofty mountain A thousand times I stand, And on my staff reclining, Look down on the smiling land. My grazing flocks then I follow, My dog protecting them well; I find myself in the valley, But how, I scarcely can tell. The whole of the meadow is cover’d With flowers of beauty rare; […]...
5. Removed from Accident of Loss Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days Myself had just to earn Of Riches as unconscious As is the Brown Malay Of Pearls in Eastern Waters, Marked His What Holiday Would stir his slow conception Had he the power to dream That put the Dower’s fraction Awaited even […]...
6. Lament for Boromir Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows, The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes. ‘What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight? Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?’ ‘I saw him ride over seven streams, over […]...
7. In A Breton Cemetery They sleep well here, These fisher-folk who passed their anxious days In fierce Atlantic ways; And found not there, Beneath the long curled wave, So quiet a grave. And they sleep well, These peasant-folk, who told their lives away, From day to market-day, As one should tell, With patient industry, Some sad old rosary. And […]...
8. An Orphan's Lament She’s gone and twice the summer’s sun Has gilt Regina’s towers, And melted wild Angora’s snows, And warmed Exina’s bowers. The flowerets twice on hill and dale Have bloomed and died away, And twice the rustling forest leaves Have fallen to decay, And thrice stern winter’s icy hand Has checked the river’s flow, And three […]...
9. 104. The Lament O THOU pale orb that silent shines While care-untroubled mortals sleep! Thou seest a wretch who inly pines. And wanders here to wail and weep! With woe I nightly vigils keep, Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam; And mourn, in lamentation deep, How life and love are all a dream! I joyless view thy rays adorn […]...
10. Lament (Whom will you cry to, heart?) Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely, Your path struggles on through incomprehensible Mankind. All the more futile perhaps For keeping to its direction, Keeping on toward the future, Toward what has been lost. Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry Of jubilation, unripe. But now the whole tree of […]...
11. 313. Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots NOW Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daisies white Out o’er the grassy lea; Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams, And glads the azure skies; But nought can glad the weary wight That fast in durance lies. Now laverocks wake the merry morn Aloft on dewy wing; […]...
12. Lament Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun, Those crags in childhood that I used to climb? Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain, Hidden is the heart. A day of cloud, a lifetime falls between, Gone are the heather moors and the pure stream, Gone are the rocky places and the green, Hidden, […]...
13. The Great Lament Of My Obscurity Three where we live the flowers of the clocks catch fire and the plumes encircle the brightness in the distant sulphur morning the cows lick the salt lilies My son My son Let us always shuffle through the colour of the world Which looks bluer than the subway and astronomy We are too thin We have […]...
14. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
15. Edith Conant We stand about this place we, the memories; And shade our eyes because we dread to read: “June 17th, 1884, aged 21 years and 3 days.” And all things are changed. And we we, the memories, stand here for ourselves alone, For no eye marks us, or would know why we are here. Your husband […]...
16. Every Man Should have a Rifle So I sit and write and ponder, while the house is deaf and dumb, Seeing visions “over yonder” of the war I know must come. In the corner – not a vision – but a sign for coming days Stand a box of ammunition and a rifle in green baize. And in this, the living […]...
17. Tess's Lament I I would that folk forgot me quite, Forgot me quite! I would that I could shrink from sight, And no more see the sun. Would it were time to say farewell, To claim my nook, to need my knell, Time for them all to stand and tell Of my day’s work as done. II […]...
18. The Maiden's Lament The clouds fast gather, The forest-oaks roar A maiden is sitting Beside the green shore, The billows are breaking with might, with might, And she sighs aloud in the darkling night, Her eyelid heavy with weeping. “My heart’s dead within me, The world is a void; To the wish it gives nothing, Each hope is […]...
19. Lament For Ignacio Sanchez Mejias 1. Cogida and death At five in the afternoon. It was exactly five in the afternoon. A boy brought the white sheet At five in the afternoon. A frail of lime ready prepared At five in the afternoon. The rest was death, and death alone. The wind carried away the cottonwool At five in the […]...
20. The Doves The house where I was born, Where I was young and gay, Grows old amid its corn, Amid its scented hay. Moan of the cushat dove, In silence rich and deep; The old head I love Nods to its quiet sleep. Where once were nine and ten Now two keep house together; The doves moan […]...
21. A Lament O World! O Life! O Time! On whose last steps I climb, Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more – Oh, never more! Out of the day and night A joy has taken flight: Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar Move my faint […]...
22. Lament for the Makers I THAT in heill was and gladness Am trublit now with great sickness And feblit with infirmitie: Timor Mortis conturbat me. Our plesance here is all vain glory, This fals world is but transitory, The flesh is bruckle, the Feynd is slee: Timor Mortis conturbat me. The state of man does change and vary, Now […]...
23. Girl's Lament In the years when we were All children, this inclining To be alone so much was gentle; Others’ time passed fighting, And one had one’s faction, One’s near, one’s far-off place, A path, an animal, a picture. And I still imagined, that life Would always keep providing For one to dwell on things within, Am […]...
24. Buddha at Kamakura 1892 “And there is a Japanese idol at Kamakura” Oye who treated the Narrow Way By Tophet-flare to Judgment Day, Be gentle when “the heathen” pray To Buddha at Kamakura! To him the Way, the Law, apart, Whom Maya held beneath her heart, Ananda’s Lord, the Bodhisat, The Buddha of Kamakura. For though he neither […]...
25. Mist In The Valley These hills, to hurt me more, That am hurt already enough,- Having left the sea behind, Having turned suddenly and left the shore That I had loved beyond all words, even a song’s words, to Convey, And built me a house on upland acres, Sweet with the pinxter, bright and rough With the rusty blackbird […]...
26. Lament When I was a windy boy and a bit And the black spit of the chapel fold, (Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women), I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood, The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit, I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled Nine-pin down on donkey’s common, […]...
27. The Artist All day with brow of anxious thought The dictionary through, Amid a million words he sought The sole one that would do. He wandered on from pub to pub Yet never ceased to seek With burning brain and pencil stub The Word Unique. Said he: ‘I’ll nail it down or die. Oh Heaven help me, […]...
28. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
29. Lament For Culloden The lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn she cries, “Alas!” And ay the saut tear blins her ee: Drumossie moor-Drumossie day – A waefu’ day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy […]...
30. 234. A Mother's Lament for her Son's Death FATE gave the word, the arrow sped, And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops, In dust dishonour’d laid; So fell the pride of all my hopes, My age’s future shade. The mother-linnet in the brake Bewails her ravish’d […]...
31. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
32. The Widow's Lament In Springtime Sorrow is my own yard Where the new grass Flames as it has flamed Often before but not With the cold fire That closes round me this year. Thirtyfive years I lived with my husband. The plumtree is white today With masses of flowers. Masses of flowers Load the cherry branches And color some bushes […]...
33. Ignorant Before The Heavens Of My Life Ignorant before the heavens of my life, I stand and gaze in wonder. Oh the vastness Of the stars. Their rising and descent. How still. As if I didn’t exist. Do I have any Share in this? Have I somehow dispensed with Their pure effect? Does my blood’s ebb and flow Change with their changes? […]...
34. 319. Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun’s departing beam Look’d on the fading yellow woods, That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail’d his lord, Whom Death had all untimely ta’en. He lean’d him to an ancient […]...
35. Benediction NOW the rooftree of the midnight spreading, Buds in citron, green, and blue: From afar its mystic odours shedding, Child, on you. Now the buried stars beneath the mountain And the vales their life renew, Jetting rainbow blooms from tiny fountains, Child, for you. In the diamond air the sun-star glowing, Up its feathered radiance […]...
36. The House Was Quiet And The World Was Calm The house was quiet and the world was calm. The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book. The house was quiet and the world was calm. The words were spoken as if there was no book, Except that the reader leaned above the page, Wanted to lean, […]...
37. Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
38. Brother Jonathan's Lament SHE has gone, she has left us in passion and pride, Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side! She has torn her own star from our firmament’s glow, And turned on her brother the face of a foe! Oh, Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, We can never forget that our hearts have been […]...
39. The Swan This laboring through what is still undone, As though, legs bound, we hobbled along the way, Is like the akward walking of the swan. And dying-to let go, no longer feel The solid ground we stand on every day- Is like anxious letting himself fall Into waters, which receive him gently And which, as though […]...
40. A British-Roman Song (A. D. 406) “A Centurion of the Thirtieth” Puck of Pook’s Hill My father’s father saw it not, And I, belike, shall never come To look on that so-holly spot That very Rome Crowned by all Time, all Art, all Might, The equal work of Gods and Man, City beneath whose oldest height The Race […]...