CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE

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1. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE Down with the rosemary and bays, Down with the misletoe; Instead of holly, now up-raise The greener box, for show. The holly hitherto did sway; Let box now domineer, Until the dancing Easter-day, Or Easter’s eve appear. Then youthful box, which now hath grace Your houses to renew, Grown old, surrender must his place Unto […]...
2. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY Kindle the Christmas brand, and then Till sunset let it burn; Which quench’d, then lay it up again, Till Christmas next return. Part must be kept, wherewith to teend The Christmas log next year; And where ’tis safely kept, the fiend Can do no mischief there....
3. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD Come, sit we under yonder tree, Where merry as the maids we’ll be; And as on primroses we sit, We’ll venture, if we can, at wit; If not, at draw-gloves we will play, So spend some minutes of the day; Or else spin out the thread of sands, Playing at questions and commands: Or tell […]...
4. TO VIOLETS Welcome, maids of honour, You do bring In the Spring; And wait upon her. She has virgins many, Fresh and fair; Yet you are More sweet than any. You’re the maiden posies; And so graced, To be placed ‘Fore damask roses. Yet, though thus respected, By and by Ye do lie, Poor girls, neglected....
5. Rosemary Beauty and Beauty’s son and rosemary – Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly – Born of the sea supposedly, At Christmas each, in company, Braids a garland of festivity. Not always rosemary – Since the flight to Egypt, blooming indifferently. With lancelike leaf, green but silver underneath, Its flowers – white originally – […]...
6. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES Honour to you who sit Near to the well of wit, And drink your fill of it! Glory and worship be To you, sweet Maids, thrice three, Who still inspire me; And teach me how to sing Unto the lyric string, My measures ravishing! Then, while I sing your praise, My priest-hood crown with bays […]...
7. Ragetty Doll Rosemary has of dolls a dozen, Yet she disdains them all; While Marie Rose, her pauper cousin Has just an old rag doll. But you should see her mother it, And with her kisses smother it. A twist of twill, a hank of hair, Fit for the rubbish bin; How Rosemary with scorn would stare […]...
8. Kin To Sorrow Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oft Falls the knocker of my door Neither loud nor soft, But as long accustomed, Under Sorrow’s hand? Marigolds around the step And rosemary stand, And then comes Sorrow- And what does Sorrow care For the rosemary Or the marigolds there? Am I kin to Sorrow? Are we […]...
9. The Key Of The Street “Miss Rosemary,” I dourly said, “Our balance verges on the red, We must cut down our overhead. One of the staff will have to go. There’s Mister Jones, he’s mighty slow, Although he does his best, I know. “A deer old man; I like him well, But age, alas! will always tell. Miss Rosemary, please […]...
10. I CALL AND I CALL I call, I call: who do ye call? The maids to catch this cowslip ball! But since these cowslips fading be, Troth, leave the flowers, and maids, take me! Yet, if that neither you will do, Speak but the word, and I’ll take you,...
11. A Seed See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down, And through the Winter neglected lay, Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown, With tiny root taking hold on the clay As, lifting and strengthening day by day, It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves, And cell after cell the Power in it weaves Out of […]...
12. Sonnet IV: Why, When I Gaze Why, when I gaze on Phaon’s beauteous eyes, Why does each thought in wild disorder stray? Why does each fainting faculty decay, And my chill’d breast in throbbing tumults rise? Mute, on the ground my Lyre neglected lies, The Muse forgot, and lost the melting lay; My down-cast looks, my faultering lips betray, That stung […]...
13. The Vine I dreamed this mortal part of mine Was metamorphosed to a vine, Which, crawling one and every way, Enthralled my dainty Lucia. Methought, her long small legs and thighs I with my tendrils did surprise: Her belley, buttocks, and her waist By my soft nervelets were embraced About her head I writhing hung And with […]...
14. TO THE WILLOW-TREE Thou art to all lost love the best, The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids distrest And left of love, are crown’d. When once the lover’s rose is dead Or laid aside forlorn, Then willow-garlands, ’bout the head, Bedew’d with tears, are worn. When with neglect, the lover’s bane, Poor maids rewarded […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
18. 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...
19. They Part And if, my friend, you’d have it end, There’s naught to hear or tell. But need you try to black my eye In wishing me farewell. Though I admit an edged wit In woe is warranted, May I be frank? . . . Such words as “-“ Are better left unsaid. There’s rosemary for you […]...
20. Bring, In This Timeless Grave To Throw XLVI Bring, in this timeless grave to throw No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His leaves that live December through; Break no rosemary, bright with rime And sparkling to the cruel crime; Nor plod the winter land to look For willows in the icy brook To cast them leafless […]...
21. Vers Demode For one, the amaryllis and the rose; The poppy, sweet as never lilies are; The ripen’d vine, that beckons as it blows; The dancing star. For one, the trodden rosemary and rue; The bowl, dipt ever in the purple stream And, for the other one, a fairer due- Sleep, and no dream....
22. 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...
23. Thoughts of Li Po from the World's End Here at the world’s end the cold winds are beginning to blow. What messages Have you for me, my master? When will the poor wandering goose arrive? The Rivers and lakes are swollen with autumn’s waters. Art detests a too successful Life; and the hungry goblins await you with welcoming jaws. You had better have […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. Scab Maids On Speed My first job was when I was about 15. I had met A girl named Hope who became my best friend. Hope and I were flunking math Class so we became speed freaks. This honed our algebra skills and we quickly Became whiz kids. For about 5 minutes. Then, our brains started to fry And […]...
26. Essential Oils are wrung Essential Oils are wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Suns alone It is the gift of Screws The General Rose decay But this in Lady’s Drawer Make Summer When the Lady lie In Ceaseless Rosemary...
27. 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!...
28. 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...
29. VANITAS! VANITATUM VANITAS! MY trust in nothing now is placed, Hurrah! So in the world true joy I taste, Hurrah! Then he who would be a comrade of mine Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine, Over these dregs of wine. I placed my trust in gold and wealth, Hurrah! But then I lost all joy and […]...
30. Oh, Banquet Not Oh, banquet not in those shining bowers, Where Youth resorts, but come to me, For mine’s a garden of faded flowers, More fit for sorrow, for age, and thee. And there we shall have our feast of tears, And many a cup in silence pour; Our guests, the shades of former years, Our toasts, to […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. A Letter from Home She sends me news of blue jays, frost, Of stars and now the harvest moon That rides above the stricken hills. Lightly, she speaks of cold, of pain, And lists what is already lost. Here where my life seems hard and slow, I read of glowing melons piled Beside the door, and baskets filled With […]...
33. If He Were Alive Today, Mayhap, Mr. Morgan Would Sit on the Midget's Lap “Beep-beep. BANKERS TRUST AUTOMOBILE LOAN You’ll find a banker at Bankers Trust” Advertisement in N. Y. Times When comes my second childhood, As to all men it must, I want to be a banker Like the banker at Bankers Trust. I wouldn’t ask to be president Or even assistant veep, I’d only ask for a […]...
34. To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses Now is the time for mirth, Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; For with the flow’ry earth The golden pomp is come. The golden pomp is come; For now each tree does wear, Made of her pap and gum, Rich beads of amber here. Now reigns the rose, and now Th’ Arabian dew besmears My […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. 391. A Tippling Ballad-When Princes and Prelates, etc WHEN Princes and Prelates, And hot-headed zealots, A’ Europe had set in a low, a low, The poor man lies down, Nor envies a crown, And comforts himself as he dow, as he dow, And comforts himself as he dow. The black-headed eagle, As keen as a beagle, He hunted o’er height and o’er howe, […]...
37. Luke Havergal Go to the western gate, Luke Havergal, There where the vines cling crimson on the wall, And in the twilight wait for what will come. The wind will moan, the leaves will whisper some Whisper of her, and strike you as they fall; But go, and if you trust her she will call. Go to […]...
38. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD Virgins promised when I died, That they would each primrose-tide Duly, morn and evening, come, And with flowers dress my tomb. Having promised, pay your debts Maids, and here strew violets....
39. A Lyric to Mirth While the milder fates consent, Let’s enjoy our merriment : Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ; Kiss our dollies night and day : Crowned with clusters of the vine, Let us sit, and quaff our wine. Call on Bacchus, chant his praise ; Shake the thyrse, and bite the bays : Rouse Anacreon […]...
40. To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton For brave comportment, wit without offence, Words fully flowing, yet of influence: Thou art that man of men, the man alone, Worthy the public admiration: Who with thine own eyes read’st what we do write, And giv’st our numbers euphony, and weight. Tell’st when a verse springs high, how understood To be, or not born […]...