34. Remorse: A Fragment

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6. Remorse That scathing word I used in scorn (Though half a century ago) Comes back to me this April morn, Like boomerang to work me woe; Comes back to me with bitter blame (Though apple boughs are blossoming), And oh! the anguish of my shame Is sharper than a serpent’s sting! Age sensitizes us to pain, […]...
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14. Remorse For Intemperate Speech I ranted to the knave and fool, But outgrew that school, Would transform the part, Fit audience found, but cannot rule My fanatic heart. I sought my betters: though in each Fine manners, liberal speech, Turn hatred into sport, Nothing said or done can reach My fanatic heart. Out of Ireland have we come. Great […]...
15. Remorse is Memory awake Remorse is Memory awake Her Parties all astir A Presence of Departed Acts At window and at Door Its Past set down before the Soul And lighted with a Match Perusal to facilitate And help Belief to stretch Remorse is cureless the Disease Not even God can heal For ’tis His institution and The Adequate […]...
16. Reason and Passion XV And the priestess spoke again and said: “Speak to us of Reason and Passion.” And he answered saying: Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and […]...
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18. THE REMORSE OF THE DEAD O SHADOWY Beauty mine, when thou shalt sleep In the deep heart of a black marble tomb; When thou for mansion and for bower shalt keep Only one rainy cave of hollow gloom; And when the stone upon thy trembling breast, And on thy straight sweet body’s supple grace, Crushes thy will and keeps thy […]...
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25. High in the air exposed High in the air exposed the slave is hung, To all the birds of heaven, their living food! He groans not, though awaked by that fierce sun New torturers live to drink their parent blood; He groans not, though the gorging vulture tear The quivering fiber. Hither look, O ye Who tore this man from […]...
26. 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 […]...
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28. I Speak Not I speak not, I trace not, I breathe not thy name; There is grief in the sound, there is guilt in the fame; But the tear that now burns on my cheek may impart The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart. Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace, Were […]...
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33. Low Barometer The south-wind strengthens to a gale, Across the moon the clouds fly fast, The house is smitten as with a flail, The chimney shudders to the blast. On such a night, when Air has loosed Its guardian grasp on blood and brain, Old terrors then of god or ghost Creep from their caves to life […]...
34. THE NEW REMORSE The sin was mine; I did not understand. So now is music prisoned in her cave, Save where some ebbing desultory wave Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand. And in the withered hollow of this land Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave, That hardly can the leaden willow crave One silver […]...
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36. Remorse Lost in the swamp and welter of the pit, He flounders off the duck-boards; only he knows Each flash and spouting crash, each instant lit When gloom reveals the streaming rain. He goes Heavily, blindly on. And, while he blunders, “Could anything be worse than this?” he wonders, Remembering how he saw those Germans run, […]...
37. Remorse THE HORSE’S name was Remorse. There were people said, “Gee, what a nag!” And they were Edgar Allan Poe bugs and so They called him Remorse. When he was a gelding He flashed his heels to other ponies And threw dust in the noses of other ponies And won his first race and his second […]...
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40. Remorse For Any Death Free of memory and of hope, Limitless, abstract, almost future, The dead man is not a dead man: he is death. Like the God of the mystics, Of Whom anything that could be said must be denied, The dead one, alien everywhere, Is but the ruin and absence of the world. We rob him of […]...