Epilogue To Asolando

Related poetry:

1. THE FOOL'S EPILOGUE MANY good works I’ve done and ended, Ye take the praise I’m not offended; For in the world, I’ve always thought Each thing its true position hath sought. When praised for foolish deeds am I, I set off laughing heartily; When blamed for doing something good, I take it in an easy mood. If some […]...
2. Epilogue UNDER THE BLESSING OF YOUR PSYCHE WINGS Though I have found you llke a snow-drop pale, On sunny days have found you weak and still, Though I have often held your girlish head Drooped on my shoulder, faint from little ill:- Under the blessing of your Psyche-wings I hide to-night like one small broken bird, […]...
3. Epilogue Che son contenti nel fuoco We are of those that Dante saw Glad, for love’s sake, among the flames of hell, Outdaring with a kiss all-powerful wrath; For we have passed athwart a fiercer hell, Through gloomier, more desperate circles Than ever Dante dreamed: And yet love kept us glad....
4. The Only Son She dropped the bar, she shot the bolt, she fed the fire anew For she heard a whimper under the sill and a great grey paw came through. The fresh flame comforted the hut and shone on the roof-beam, And the Only Son lay down again and dreamed that he dreamed a dream. The last […]...
5. Epilogue Between the wave-ridge and the strand I let you forth in sight of land, Songs that with storm-crossed wings and eyes Strain eastward till the darkness dies; Let signs and beacons fall or stand, And stars and balefires set and rise; Ye, till some lordlier lyric hand Weave the beloved brows their crown, At the […]...
6. Cheer It’s a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass, When even the worst is said. There’s a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer, But better be living than dead; A joy and a pain, a loss and a gain; There’s honey and may be some gall: Yet still I declare, foul […]...
7. Conqueror Though I defy the howling horde As bloody-browed I smite, Back to the wall with shattered sword When darkly dooms the night; Though hoarse they cheer as I go down Before their bitter odds, ‘Tis I who win the victor’s crown, The guerdon of the gods. For all who fall in fearless fight Alight a […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. The Double Vision Of Michael Robartes I On the grey rock of Cashel the mind’s eye Has called up the cold spirits that are born When the old moon is vanished from the sky And the new still hides her horn. Under blank eyes and fingers never still The particular is pounded till it is man. When had I my own […]...
10. After Apple-Picking My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now. Essence of winter sleep is on the night, The scent of apples: I […]...
11. The Klondike Never mind the day we left, or the day the women clung to us; All we need now is the last way they looked at us. Never mind the twelve men there amid the cheering – Twelve men or one man, ‘t will soon be all the same; For this is what we know: we […]...
12. He strained my faith He strained my faith Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust Did it then yield? Hurled my belief But did he shatter it? Racked with suspense Not a nerve failed! Wrung me with Anguish But I never doubted him ‘Tho’ for what wrong He did never say Stabbed while I sued His sweet […]...
13. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13: The half-shut doors through which we heard that music The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl out, the night grows deep. Darkness settles upon us. A vague refrain Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. Where have we been? What savage chaos of music […]...
14. The Lost Master “And when I come to die,” he said, “Ye shall not lay me out in state, Nor leave your laurels at my head, Nor cause your men of speech orate; No monument your gift shall be, No column in the Hall of Fame; But just this line ye grave for me: ‘He played the game.'” […]...
15. I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair I. I DREAMED of forest alleys fair And fields of gray-flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon My Jenny seemed to pass. I dreamed the yellow summer moon, Behind a cedar wood, Lay white on fields of rippling grass Where I and Jenny stood. I dreamed – but fallen through my dream, In a […]...
16. Epilogue “Why can’t you say what you mean straight out in prose?” Well, say it yourself: then say “It’s that, but more, Or less perhaps, or not that way, or not That after all.” The meaning of a song Might be an undernote; this tree might mean That leaf as much as trunk, branch, other leaves. […]...
17. Self-Interrogation The evening passes fast away, ‘Tis almost time to rest; What thoughts has left the vanished day, What feelings, in thy breast? “The vanished day? It leaves a sense Of labour hardly done; Of little, gained with vast expense, – A sense of grief alone! “Time stands before the door of Death, Upbraiding bitterly; And […]...
18. An Epilogue I had seen flowers come in stony places And kind things done by men with ugly faces, And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races, Ao I trust, too....
19. Epilogue WELL, when all is said and done Best within my narrow way, May some angel of the sun Muse memorial o’er my clay: “Here was beauty all betrayed From the freedom of her state; From her human uses stayed On an idle rhyme to wait. “Ah, what deep despair might move If the beauty lit […]...
20. Epilogue Those blessиd structures, plot and rhyme Why are they no help to me now I want to make Something imagined, not recalled? I hear the noise of my own voice: The painter’s vision is not a lens, it trembles to caress the light. But sometimes everything I write With the threadbare art of my eye […]...
21. Epilogue Patience, little Heart. One day a heavy, June-hot woman Will enter and shut the door to stay. And when your stifling heart would summon Cool, lonely night, her roused breasts will keep the night at bay, Sitting in your room like two tiger-lilies Flaming on after sunset, Destroying the cool, lonely night with the glow […]...
22. Epilogue I have refused to refuse to publish This book of poetry Today they’ve found Over a hundred poems In this volume Tomorrow, yet more One day, even skeptics incurrable Willl be thrilled by the flair of my skill And god-playing critics will chill At the blood spilt from my quill...
23. Epilogue O chansons foregoing You were a seven days’ wonder. When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in Chicago, And now you are stale and worn out, You’re a very depleted fashion, A hoop-skirt, a calash, An homely, transient antiquity. Only emotion remains. Your emotions? Are those of a maitre-de-cafe....
24. Epilogue to Through the Looking Glass A boat, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear Pleased a simple tale to hear Long has paled that sunny sky: Echoes fade and memories die: Autumn frosts have slain July. Still she haunts me, phantomwise Alice moving under skies […]...
25. Mutability We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon; How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver, Streaking the darkness radiantly! – yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost for ever: Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response to each varying blast, To whose frail frame no second motion brings […]...
26. Holy Sonnet XIV: Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurped town, to another due, Labor to admit you, but O, to no end; Reason, […]...
27. Towards Break Of Day Was it the double of my dream The woman that by me lay Dreamed, or did we halve a dream Under the first cold gleam of day? I thought: “There is a waterfall Upon Ben Bulben side That all my childhood counted dear; Were I to travel far and wide I could not find a […]...
28. The Lost Leader Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat – Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us, Lost all the others she lets us devote; They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver, So much was theirs who so little allowed: How […]...
29. Awake, My Heart Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake The o’ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake! She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee: Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee, Already they watch the path thy […]...
30. Through Agony I All night, through the eternity of night, Pain was my potion though I could not feel. Deep in my humbled heart you ground your heel, Till I was reft of even my inner light, Till reason from my mind had taken flight, And all my world went whirling in a reel. And all my […]...
31. Critic and Poet: an Epilogue No man had ever heard a nightingale, When once a keen-eyed naturalist was stirred To study and define what is a bird, To classify by rote and book, nor fail To mark its structure and to note the scale Whereon its song might possibly be heard. Thus far, no farther; so he spake the word. […]...
32. Remember Him, Whom Passion's Power Remember him, whom Passion’s power Severely – deeply – vainly proved: Remember thou that dangerous hour, When neither fell, though both were loved. That yielding breast, that melting eye, Too much invited to be blessed: That gentle prayer, that pleading sigh, The wilder wish reproved, repressed. Oh! let me feel that all I lost But […]...
33. Stanzas To Augusta When all around grew drear and dark, And reason half withheld her ray – And hope but shed a dying spark Which more misled my lonely way; In that deep midnight of the mind, And that internal strife of heart, When dreading to be deemed too kind, The weak despair-the cold depart; When fortune changed-and […]...
34. I Will Not Fight I will not fight: though proud of pith I hold no one worth striving with; And should resentment burn my breast I deem that silence serves me best: So having not a word to say, Contemptuous I turn away. I will not fret: my rest of life Free I will keep from hate and strife; […]...
35. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty […]...
36. The Corner Man I dreamt a dream at the midnight deep, When fancies come and go To vex a man in his soothing sleep With thoughts of awful woe I dreamed that I was the corner man Of a nigger minstrel show. I cracked my jokes, and the building rang With laughter loud and long; I hushed the […]...
37. Dusk DUSK wraps the village in its dim caress; Each chimney’s vapour, like a thin grey rod, Mounting aloft through miles of quietness, Pillars the skies of God. Far up they break or seem to break their line, Mingling their nebulous crests that bow and nod Under the light of those fierce stars that shine Out […]...
38. Constancy I cannot change, as others do, Though you unjustly scorn; Since that poor swain, that sighs for you For you alone was born. No, Phyllis, no, your heart to move A surer way I’ll try: And to revenge my slighted love, Will still love on, will still love on, and die. When, kill’d with grief, […]...
39. Tom That Tom was poor was sure a pity, Such guts for learning had the lad; He took to Greek like babe to titty, And he was mathematic mad. I loved to prime him up with knowledge, A brighter lad I never knew; I dreamed that he would go to college And there be honoured too. […]...
40. The Theory The big one went to sleep as to die and dreamed he Became a tiny one. So tiny as to have lost all substance. To have Become as theoretical as a point. Then someone said, get up, big one, you’re not doing Yourself any good. You puddle and stagnate in your weight. Best to be […]...