HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST

Related poetry:

1. TO PANSIES Ah, Cruel Love! must I endure Thy many scorns, and find no cure? Say, are thy medicines made to be Helps to all others but to me? I’ll leave thee, and to Pansies come: Comforts you’ll afford me some: You can ease my heart, and do What Love could ne’er be brought unto....
2. At Ease Most wounds can Time repair; But some are mortal these: For a broken heart there is no balm, No cure for a heart at ease At ease, but cold as stone, Though the intellect spin on, And the feat and practiced face may show Nought of the life that is gone; But smiles, as by […]...
3. The Ease and Charm of You There’s an infinity of wisdom in your smile that would deny The winsome wit that lies at back of it; and then the droll and Cheeky svénska troll of you which peeps out from the Flimsy drape in which you sheet your public soul, an urchin Bold, a squirming sprite who claims a manic tithe […]...
4. Long Time I Lay In Little Ease LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE LONG time I lay in little ease Where, placed by the Turanian, Marseilles, the many-masted, sees The blue Mediterranean. Now songful in the hour of sport, Now riotous for wages, She camps around her ancient port, As ancient of the ages. Algerian airs through all the place Unconquerably […]...
5. 'Twould ease a Butterfly ‘Twould ease a Butterfly Elate a Bee Thou’rt neither Neither thy capacity But, Blossom, were I, I would rather be Thy moment Than a Bee’s Eternity Content of fading Is enough for me Fade I unto Divinity And Dying Lifetime Ample as the Eye Her least attention raise on me...
6. I'm the little "Heart's Ease"! I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away? If the Coward Bumble Bee In his chimney corner stay, I, must resoluter be! Who’ll apologize for me? Dear, Old fashioned, little flower! Eden is old fashioned, too! Birds are antiquated fellows! Heaven does not […]...
7. If Truth in Hearts That Perish If truth in hearts that perish Could move the powers on high, I think the love I bear you Should make you not to die. Sure, sure, if stedfast meaning, If single thought could save, The world might end to-morrow, You should not see the grave. This long and sure-set liking, This boundless will to […]...
8. TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY, THAT CROWNED HIM WITH LAUREL My Muse in meads has spent her many hours Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, To make for others garlands; and to set On many a head here, many a coronet. But amongst all encircled here, not one Gave her a day of coronation; Till you, sweet mistress, came and interwove A laurel for […]...
9. Sonnet 41 – I thank all who have loved me in their hearts XLI I thank all who have loved me in their hearts, With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all Who paused a little near the prison-wall To hear my music in its louder parts Ere they went onward, each one to the mart’s Or temple’s occupation, beyond call. But thou, who, in my […]...
10. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts Who’s she, that one in your arms? She’s the one I carried my bones to And built a house that was just a cot And built a life that was over an hour And built a castle where no one lives And built, in the end, a song To go with the ceremony. Why have […]...
11. You Ask Me, Why, Tho' Ill at Ease You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till, That sober-suited Freedom chose, The land, where girt with friends or foes A man may speak the thing he will; A land of […]...
12. Sonnet 31: Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts, Which I by lacking have supposèd dead, And there reigns love and all love’s loving parts, And all those friends which I thought burièd. How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye As interest of the dead, which now appear But […]...
13. TO MEADOWS Ye have been fresh and green, Ye have been fill’d with flowers; And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours. You have beheld how they With wicker arks did come, To kiss and bear away The richer cowslips home. You’ve heard them sweetly sing, And seen them in a round; Each […]...
14. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW Here we securely live, and eat The cream of meat; And keep eternal fires, By which we sit, and do divine, As wine And rage inspires. If full, we charm; then call upon Anacreon To grace the frantic Thyrse: And having drunk, we raise a shout Throughout, To praise his verse. Then cause we Horace […]...
15. My Voice Within this restless, hurried, modern world We took our hearts’ full pleasure – You and I, And now the white sails of our ship are furled, And spent the lading of our argosy. Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan, For very weeping is my gladness fled, Sorrow has paled my young mouth’s vermilion, […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. 485. Song-How lang and dreary is the night HOW lang and dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie; I restless lie frae e’en to morn Though I were ne’er sae weary. Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang! And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her window’d heart is sair, That’s absent frae her Dearie! When I think on […]...
18. A Song Of Success Ho! we were strong, we were swift, we were brave. Youth was a challenge, and Life was a fight. All that was best in us gladly we gave, Sprang from the rally, and leapt for the height. Smiling is Love in a foam of Spring flowers: Harden our hearts to him on let us press! […]...
19. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSETO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS Is this a life, to break thy sleep, To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pass, Not knowing this, that Jove decrees Some mirth, t’ adulce man’s miseries? No; ’tis a life to have thine oil Without extortion from thy […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. A Flower-Piece By Fantin Heart’s ease or pansy, pleasure or thought, Which would the picture give us of these? Surely the heart that conceived it sought Heart’s ease. Surely by glad and divine degrees The heart impelling the hand that wrought Wrought comfort here for a soul’s disease. Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness fraught, From glass that gleams […]...
22. The Gift “He gave her class. She gave him sex.” Katharine Hepburn on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers He gave her money. She gave him head. He gave her tips on “aggressive growth” mutual funds. She gave him a red rose and a little statue of eros. He gave her Genesis 2 (21-23). She gave him Genesis […]...
23. Cows I love to watch my seven cows In meads of buttercups abrowse, With guilded knees; But even more I love to see Them chew the cud so tranquilly In twilight ease. Each is the image of content From fragrant hours in clover spent, ‘Mid leaf and bud; As up and down without a pause Mechanically […]...
24. Allegory I had a gig-horse, and I called him Pleasure Because on Sundays for a little jaunt He was so fast and showy, quite a treasure; Although he sometimes kicked and shied aslant. I had a chaise, and christened it Enjoyment, With yellow body and the wheels of red, Because it was only used for one […]...
25. I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! And more must, in yet longer light’s delay. With witness I speak this. But where I say Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. Martha “Once…Once upon a time…” Over and over again, Martha would tell us her stories, In the hazel glen. Hers were those clear gray eyes You watch, and the story seems Told by their beautifulness Tranquil as dreams. She’d sit with her two slim hands Clasped round her bended knees; While we on our elbows lolled, […]...
29. Thunderstorms My mind has thunderstorms, That brood for heavy hours: Until they rain me words, My thoughts are drooping flowers And sulking, silent birds. Yet come, dark thunderstorms, And brood your heavy hours; For when you rain me words, My thoughts are dancing flowers And joyful singing birds....
30. There came a Day at Summer's full There came a Day at Summer’s full, Entirely for me I thought that such were for the Saints, Where Resurrections be The Sun, as common, went abroad, The flowers, accustomed, blew, As if no soul the solstice passed That maketh all things new The time was scarce profaned, by speech The symbol of a word […]...
31. Regeneration 1. Award, and still in bonds, one day I stole abroad, It was high-spring, and all the way Primros’d, and hung with shade; Yet, was it frost within, And surly winds Blasted my infant buds, and sin Like clouds eclips’d my mind. 2. Storm’d thus; I straight perceiv’d my spring Mere stage, and show, My […]...
32. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish’d, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou Power that canst sever From me this ill; And quickly still, Though thou not kill My fever. Thou sweetly canst convert the same From a […]...
33. The Alchemist in the City My window shews the travelling clouds, Leaves spent, new seasons, alter’d sky, The making and the melting crowds: The whole world passes; I stand by. They do not waste their meted hours, But men and masters plan and build: I see the crowning of their towers, And happy promises fulfill’d. And I – perhaps if […]...
34. The Youth By The Brook Beside the brook the boy reclined And wove his flowery wreath, And to the waves the wreath consigned The waves that danced beneath. “So fleet mine hours,” he sighed, “away Like waves that restless flow: And so my flowers of youth decay Like those that float below.” “Ask not why I, alone on earth, Am […]...
35. My Pretty Rose Tree A flower was offered to me; Such a flower as May never bore. But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree. And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree: To tend her by day and by night. But my Rose turnd away with jealousy: And her thorns were my only […]...
36. Ode On The Spring Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus’ train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo’s note, The untaught harmony of spring: While, whisp’ring pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs thro’ the clear blue sky Their gathered fragrance fling. Where’er the oak’s thick […]...
37. 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...
38. Green Grow The Rashes Green grow the rashes, O! Green grow the rashes, O! The sweetest hours that e’er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O! There’s nought but care on every han’ In every hour that passes, O; What signifies the life o’ man, An ’twere na for the lasses, O? The warl’ly race may riches chase, […]...
39. 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...
40. All in June A week ago I had a fire To warm my feet, my hands and face; Cold winds, that never make a friend, Crept in and out of every place. Today the fields are rich in grass, And buttercups in thousands grow; I’ll show the world where I have been With gold-dust seen on either shoe. […]...