473. On Chloris requesting a sprig of blossom'd thorn

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1. Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain, While rainy evening drips to misty night, And misty night to cloudy morning clears, And clouds disperse across the gathering light, And […]...
2. The Black Berry wears a Thorn in his side The Black Berry wears a Thorn in his side But no Man heard Him cry He offers His Berry, just the same To Partridge and to Boy He sometimes holds upon the Fence Or struggles to a Tree Or clasps a Rock, with both His Hands But not for Sympathy We tell a Hurt to […]...
3. The Thorn (For the Rev. Charles L. O’Donnell, C. S. C.) The garden of God is a radiant place, And every flower has a holy face: Our Lady like a lily bends above the cloudy sod, But Saint Michael is the thorn on the rosebush of God. David is the song upon God’s lips, And Our Lady […]...
4. O Bitter Sprig! Confession Sprig! O BITTER sprig! Confession sprig! In the bouquet I give you place also-I bind you in, Proceeding no further till, humbled publicly, I give fair warning, once for all. I own that I have been sly, thievish, mean, a prevaricator, greedy, derelict, And I own that I remain so yet. What foul thought but I […]...
5. 528. Song-On Chloris being ill Chorus-Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul’s delight Is on her bed of sorrow. CAN I cease to care? Can I cease to languish, While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long, &c. Ev’ry hope is fled, Ev’ry fear is terror, Slumber ev’n I dread, Ev’ry dream […]...
6. 540. Inscription to Chloris ‘TIS Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bid the world adieu, (A world ‘gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, Chill came the […]...
7. 483. Esteem for Chloris AH, Chloris, since it may not be, That thou of love wilt hear; If from the lover thou maun flee, Yet let the friend be dear. Altho’ I love my Chloris mair Than ever tongue could tell; My passion I will ne’er declare- I’ll say, I wish thee well. Tho’ a’ my daily care thou […]...
8. The Sprig of Moss There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth, But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth, And of seven of a family he was the elder, Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder. But, poor fellow, at home his father was lying dead, And his little brothers and sisters were depending […]...
9. THE BLEEDING HAND; OR THE SPRIG OF EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID From this bleeding hand of mine, Take this sprig of Eglantine: Which, though sweet unto your smell, Yet the fretful briar will tell, He who plucks the sweets, shall prove Many thorns to be in love....
10. Chloris in the Snow I SAW fair Chloris walk alone, When feather’d rain came softly down, As Jove descending from his Tower To court her in a silver shower: The wanton snow flew to her breast, Like pretty birds into their nest, But, overcome with whiteness there, For grief it thaw’d into a tear: Thence falling on her garments’ […]...
11. On Chloris Walking in the Snow I saw fair Chloris walk alone, Whilst feather’d rain came softly down, And Jove descended from his tower To court her in a silver shower. The wanton snow flew on her breast Like little birds unto their nest; But overcome with whiteness there, For grief it thaw’d into a tear; Thence falling on her garment’s […]...
12. On Chloris Standing By The Fire Faire Chloris, standing by the Fire, An amorous coale with hot desire Leapt on her breast, but could not melt The chaste snow there which when it felt For shame it blusht; and then it died There where resistance did abide, And lest she should take it unkind Repentant ashes left behind....
13. A Tree Song (A. D. 1200) Of all the trees that grow so fair, Old England to adorn, Greater are none beneath the Sun, Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn. Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good sirs, (All of a Midsummer morn!) Surely we sing no little thing, In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn! Oak of the […]...
14. The Lilly The modest Rose puts forth a thorn: The humble Sheep. a threatning horn: While the Lily white, shall in Love delight, Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright...
15. O Singer in Brown O, singer in brown! O, bird o’ th’ morn! O, heart of delight In th’ deep o’ th’ thorn! Glad is thy song Thou joy o’ th’ morn, Thou palpitant throat In the heart o’ th’ thorn! Thy song of the nest, O, sweet o’ th’ morn! A nest and an egg In the thick […]...
16. Paudeen Indignant at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite Of our old paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light; Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought That on the lonely height where all are in God’s eye, There […]...
17. Philomela The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth Unto her rested sense a perfect waking, While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth, Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making, And, mournfully bewailing, Her throat in tunes expresseth What grief her breast oppresseth, For Tereus’ force on her chaste will prevailing. O Philomela […]...
18. Columbus Cheney This weeping willow! Why do you not plant a few For the millions of children not yet born, As well as for us? Are they not non-existent, or cells asleep Without mind? Or do they come to earth, their birth Rupturing the memory of previous being? Answer! The field of unexplored intuition is yours. But […]...
19. Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down As you descend, slowly, falling faster past You this snow, Ghostly, some flakes bio- Luminescent (you plunge, And this lit snow doesn’t land At your feet but keeps falling below You): single-cell-plant chains, shreds Of zooplankton’s mucus food traps, Fish fecal pellets, radioactive fallouts, Sand grains, pollen….And inside These jagged falling islands Live more microlives, […]...
20. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
21. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
22. 318. Song-The Banks o' Doon (Third Version) YE banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o’ departed joys, Departed never to return. Aft hae I […]...
23. Sonnet LXIIII COmming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found) Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres: That dainty odours from them threw around For damzels fit to decke their louers bowres. Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers, Her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red: Her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures, Her louely […]...
24. Go Plant a Tree God, what a joy it is to plant a tree, And from the sallow earth to watch it rise, Lifting its emerald branches to the skies In silent adoration; and to see Its strength and glory waxing with each spring. Yes, ’tis a goodly, and a gladsome thing To plant a tree. Nature has many […]...
25. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
26. A Man Young And Old: VI. His Memories We should be hidden from their eyes, Being but holy shows And bodies broken like a thorn Whereon the bleak north blows, To think of buried Hector And that none living knows. The women take so little stock In what I do or say They’d sooner leave their cosseting To hear a jackass bray; My […]...
27. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
28. Parting AS from our dream we died away Far off I felt the outer things; Your wind-blown tresses round me play, Your bosom’s gentle murmurings. And far away our faces met As on the verge of the vast spheres; And in the night our cheeks were wet, I could not say with dew or tears. As […]...
29. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
30. The Soul's Expression WITH stammering lips and insufficient sound I strive and struggle to deliver right That music of my nature, day and night With dream and thought and feeling interwound And inly answering all the senses round With octaves of a mystic depth and height Which step out grandly to the infinite From the dark edges of […]...
31. Bacchanalia The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is the half-mown plain, Silent the swaths! the ringing wain, The mower’s cry, the dog’s alarms, All housed within the sleeping farms! The business of the day is done, The last-left haymaker is gone. And from […]...
32. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
33. Sympathy Therefore I dare reveal my private woe, The secret blots of my imperfect heart, Nor strive to shrink or swell mine own desert, Nor beautify nor hide. For this I know, That even as I am, thou also art. Thou past heroic forms unmoved shalt go, To pause and bide with me, to whisper low: […]...
34. Coquette et Froide What is thy thought of me? What is thy feeling? Lov’st thou the veil of sense, Or its revealing? Leav’st thou the maiden rose Drooping and blushing, Or rend’st its bosom with Kissing and crushing? I would be beautiful That thou should’st woo me, Gentle, delightsome, but To draw thee to me. Yet should thy […]...
35. Every Silent Plant in the Garden (To: S. W.) Every silent plant in the garden knows Two sorts of wishes make up the world: One is conceived in heaven, the other in hell The earth buttoned its lip, too humble to tell With regard to intent, millionaires are all Yet about prayers, most of us ignorant children Undiscerning of whatever come […]...
36. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
37. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
38. Aisling I was making my way home late one night This summer, when I staggered Into a snow drift. Her eyes spoke of a sloe-year, Her mouth a year of haws. Was she Aurora, or the goddess Flora, Artemidora, or Venus bright, Or Anorexia, who left A lemon stain on my flannel sheet? It’s all much […]...
39. Come, Rest in this Bosom Come, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer, Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here; Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o’ercast, And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last. Oh! what was love made for, if ’tis not the same Through […]...
40. And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low? And wilt thou weep when I am low? Sweet lady! speak those words again: Yet if they grieve thee, say not so – I would not give that bosom pain. My heart is sad, my hopes are gone, My blood runs coldly through my breast; And when I perish, thou alone Wilt sigh above my […]...