In the Wilderness

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1. Item This, with a face Like a mashed blood orange That suddenly Would get eyes And look up and scream War! War! Clutching her Thick, ragged coat A piece of hat Broken shoes War! War! Stumbling for dread At the young men Who with their gun-butts Shove her Sprawling- A note At the foot of the […]...
2. Wilderness THERE is a wolf in me… fangs pointed for tearing gashes… a red tongue for raw meat… and the hot lapping of blood-I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go. There is a fox in me… a silver-gray fox… I sniff and guess… I […]...
3. Flash Crimson I SHALL cry God to give me a broken foot. I shall ask for a scar and a slashed nose. I shall take the last and the worst. I shall be eaten by gray creepers in a bunkhouse where no runners of the sun come and no dogs live. And yet-of all “and yets” this […]...
4. The Ghost Of The Past We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never alone. It was a spectral housekeeping Where fell no jarring tone, As strange, as still a housekeeping As ever has been known. As daily I went up the stair, And down the stair, I […]...
5. The Wilderness I came too late to the hills: they were swept bare Winters before I was born of song and story, Of spell or speech with power of oracle or invocation, The great ash long dead by a roofless house, its branches rotten, The voice of the crows an inarticulate cry, And from the wells and […]...
6. The Wilderness Come away! come away! there’s a frost along the marshes, And a frozen wind that skims the shoal where it shakes the dead black water; There’s a moan across the lowland and a wailing through the woodland Of a dirge that sings to send us back to the arms of those that love us. There […]...
7. The Widower Oh I have worn my mourning out, And on her grave the green grass grows; So I will hang each sorry clout High in the corn to scare the crows. And I will buy a peacock tie, And coat of cloth of Donegal; Then to the Farmer’s Fair I’ll hie And peek in at the […]...
8. St. John Baptist Painted by her self in the Wilderness, with Angels appearing to him, and with a Lamb by him THe Sun’s my Fire, when it does shine, The hollow Spring’s my Cave of Wine, The Rocks and Woods afford me Meat; This Lamb and I on one Dish eat: The neighbouring Herds my Garments send, My Pallet the kind Earth doth lend: Excess and Grandure I decline, M’Associates onely are Divine....
9. William Goode To all in the village I seemed, no doubt, To go this way and that way, aimlessly. But here by the river you can see at twilight The soft-winged bats fly zig-zag here and there They must fly so to catch their food. And if you have ever lost your way at night, In the […]...
10. Christmas in a box the policeman on the streets Found christmas in a box Tipped it down a manhole It wasn’t wearing socks A little old lady nearby – The poor sod’s done no harm She got hit with a truncheon For spreading false alarm The policeman then went home Pleased his job was done Called for his christmas […]...
11. To A Young Ass Its mother being tethered near it Poor little Foal of an oppressиd race! I love the languid patience of thy face: And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread, And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head. But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay’d, That never thou dost sport along the glade? And […]...
12. A Curse Against Elegies Oh, love, why do we argue like this? I am tired of all your pious talk. Also, I am tired of all the dead. They refuse to listen, So leave them alone. Take your foot out of the graveyard, They are busy being dead. Everyone was always to blame: The last empty fifth of booze, […]...
13. Oh! Weep for Those I. Oh! Weep for those that wept by Babel’s stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream, Weep for the harp of Judah’s broken shell Mourn where their God that dwelt the Godless dwell! II. And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion’s songs agains seem sweet? And Judah’s melody […]...
14. My Garret Here is my Garret up five flights of stairs; Here’s where I deal in dreams and ply in fancies, Here is the wonder-shop of all my wares, My sounding sonnets and my red romances. Here’s where I challenge Fate and ring my rhymes, And grope at glory aye, and starve at times. Here is my […]...
15. The Merciful Hand Written to Miss Alice L. F. Fitzgerald, Edith Cavell memorial nurse, going to the front. Your fine white hand is Heaven’s gift To cure the wide world, stricken sore, Bleeding at the breast and head, Tearing at its wounds once more. Your white hand is a prophecy, A living hope that Christ shall come And […]...
16. The Apparitions Because there is safety in derision I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sense. Distrustful of thar popular eye Whether it be bold or sly. Fifteen apparitions have I seen; The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger. I have found nothing half so good […]...
17. Aztec Mask I wanted a man’s face looking into the jaws and throat Of life With something proud on his face, so proud no smash Of the jaws, No gulp of the throat leaves the face in the end With anything else than the old proud look: Even to the finish, dumped in the dust, Lost among […]...
18. The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves Her unintending Eyes Took her own Heart, including ours, By innocent Surprise The wrestle in her simple Throat To hold the feeling down That vanquished her defeated Feat Was Fervor’s sudden Crown...
19. 248. Pegasus at Wanlockhead WITH Pegasus upon a day, Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey lay, On foot the way was plying. Poor slipshod giddy Pegasus Was but a sorry walker; To Vulcan then Apollo goes, To get a frosty caulker. Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Threw by his coat and bonnet, And did Sol’s business in […]...
20. A Coat I made my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But he fools caught it, Wore it in the world’s eyes As though they’d wrought it. Song, let them take it, For there’s more enterprise In walking naked....
21. The Road and the End I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain go by. I shall foot it In the silence of the morning, See the night slur into dawn, Hear the slow great winds arise Where tall trees flank the way And shoulder toward the sky. […]...
22. As Toilsome I Wander'd AS toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s woods, To the music of rustling leaves, kick’d by my feet, (for ’twas autumn,) I mark’d at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier, Mortally wounded he, and buried on the retreat, (easily all could I understand;) The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time […]...
23. To Gloriana GIRL with the burning golden eyes, And red-bird song, and snowy throat: I bring you gold and silver moons, And diamond stars, and mists that float. I bring you moons and snowy clouds, I bring you prarie skies to-night To feebly praise your golden eyes And red-bird song, and throat so white....
24. Love Lies Bleeding Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading: Earth lies laughing where the sun’s dart clove her: Love lies bleeding. Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding Pride of princes: nor shall maid or lover Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding. Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover […]...
25. Elegy Too proud to die; broken and blind he died The darkest way, and did not turn away, A cold kind man brave in his narrow pride On that darkest day. Oh, forever may He lie lightly, at last, on the last, crossed Hill, under the grass, in love, and there grow Young among the long […]...
26. Last Poem of my 45th Year I thought of how a whale’s white ribs Could choke the sky’s blue neck, Massive vertebrae half-buried in sand, And how a keel cleaves the sea While the wind zephyrs canvas to swell And propel the long black ship toward shore, Heaven in a blue mussel shell, smooth As the firmament. I believe there is […]...
27. The Debate Between Villon And His Heart Who’s that I hear?-It’s me-Who?-Your heart Hanging on by the thinnest thread I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid When I see you withdrawn this way all alone Like a whipped cur sulking in the corner Is it due to your mad hedonism?- What’s it to you?-I have to suffer for it- Leave me […]...
28. An Old-Fashioned Garden Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day- Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons- Spreading the seeds in the old-fashioned way. Just in the old fashioned way, too, our quarrel Grew until, angrily, she set me free- Planting, indeed, bleeding hearts for the two of us,- Ordaining bachelor’s buttons for […]...
29. The Pilot From the Past and Unavailing Out of cloudland we are steering: After groping, after fearing, Into starlight we come trailing, And we find the stars are true. Still, O comrade, what of you? You are gone, but we are sailing, And the old ways are all new. For the Lost and Unreturning We have drifted, […]...
30. The House They are building a house Half a block down And I sit up here With the shades down Listening to the sounds, The hammers pounding in nails, Thack thack thack thack, And then I hear birds, And thack thack thack, And I go to bed, I pull the covers to my throat; They have been […]...
31. The Dreamer The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold, His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days; But now how sweet, how doubly sweet to hold All gay and gleamy to the campfire blaze. The evening sky was sinister and cold; The willows shivered, wanly lay the snow; The uncommiserating land, so old, So […]...
32. The Joy Of Being Poor I Let others sing of gold and gear, the joy of being rich; But oh, the days when I was poor, a vagrant in a ditch! When every dawn was like a gem, so radiant and rare, And I had but a single coat, and not a single care; When I would feast right royally […]...
33. The Beggar Lad dies early The Beggar Lad dies early It’s Somewhat in the Cold And Somewhat in the Trudging feet And haply, in the World The Cruel smiling bowing World That took its Cambric Way Nor heard the timid cry for “Bread” “Sweet Lady Charity” Among Redeemed Children If Trudging feet may stand The Barefoot time forgotten so The […]...
34. Casabianca Love’s the boy stood on the burning deck Trying to recite “The boy stood on The burning deck.” Love’s the son stood stammering elocution while the poor ship in flames went down. Love’s the obstinate boy, the ship, Even the swimming sailors, who Would like a schoolroom platform, too, or an excuse to stay on […]...
35. Conversion When this world’s pleasures for my soul sufficed, Ere my heart’s plummet sounded depths of pain, I call on Reason to control my brain, And scoffed at that old story of Christ. But when o’er burning wastes my feet had trod, And all my life was desolate with loss, With bleeding hands I clung about […]...
36. Miscast II My heart is like a cleft pomegranate Bleeding crimson seeds And dripping them on the ground. My heart gapes because it is ripe and over-full, And its seeds are bursting from it. But how is this other than a torment to me! I, who am shut up, with broken crockery, In a dark closet!...
37. The Sunderland Calamity ‘Twas in the town of Sunderland, and in the year of 1883, That about 200 children were launch’d into eternity While witnessing an entertainment in Victoria Hall, While they, poor little innocents, to God for help did call. The entertainment consisted of conjuring, and the ghost illusion play, Also talking waxworks, and living marionettes, and […]...
38. Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop I met the Bishop on the road And much said he and I. ‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now, Those veins must soon be dry; Live in a heavenly mansion, Not in some foul sty.’ ‘Fair and foul are near of kin, And fair needs foul,’ I cried. ‘My friends are gone, but that’s […]...
39. Chorus From Oedipus At Colonos What is unwisdom but the lusting after Longevity: to be old and full of days! For the vast and unremitting tide of years Casts up to view more sorrowful things than joyful; And as for pleasures, once beyond our prime, They all drift out of reach, they are washed away. And the same gaunt bailiff […]...
40. My Lady in Her White Silk Shawl My lady in her white silk shawl Is like a lily dim, Within the twilight of the room Enthroned and kind and prim. My lady! Pale gold is her hair. Until she smiles her face Is pale with far Hellenic moods, With thoughts that find no place In our harsh village of the West Wherein […]...