The Land of Counterpane

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1. The Little Land When at home alone I sit And am very tired of it, I have just to shut my eyes To go sailing through the skies To go sailing far away To the pleasant Land of Play; To the fairy land afar Where the Little People are; Where the clover-tops are trees, And the rain-pools are […]...
2. The Glory of Ships The glory of ships is an old, old song, Since the days when the sea-rovers ran In their open boats through the roaring surf, And the spread of the world began; The glory of ships is a light on the sea, And a star in the story of man. When Homer sang of the galleys […]...
3. The Absence I speak to you across cities I speak to you across plains My mouth is upon your pillow Both faces of the walls come meeting My voice discovering you I speak to you of eternity O cities memories of cities Cities wrapped in our desires Cities come early cities come lately Cities strong and cities […]...
4. Nocturne of the Wharves All night they whine upon their ropes and boom Against the dock with helpless prows: These little ships that are too worn for sailing Front the wharf but do not rest at all. Tugging at the dim gray wharf they think No doubt of China and of bright Bombay, And they remember islands of the […]...
5. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
6. The Fury Of Earth The day of fire is coming, the thrush, Will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket, The beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer, And at the breaking of the morning the houses Will turn into oil and will in their tides Of fire be a becoming and an ending, a red fan. What then, […]...
7. Bathed in War's Perfume BATHED in war’s perfume-delicate flag! (Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,) O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a beautiful woman! O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships they arm with joy! O to see you leap and beckon from […]...
8. Behold, from the land of the farther suns Behold, from the land of the farther suns I returned. And I was in a reptile-swarming place, Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces, Shrouded above in black impenetrableness. I shrank, loathing, Sick with it. And I said to him, “What is this?” He made answer slowly, “Spirit, this is a world; This was your home.”...
9. The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlorn Down valleys dreadly desolate; The lordly mountains soar in scorn As still as death, as stern as fate. The lonely sunsets flame and die; The giant valleys gulp the night; The monster mountains scrape the sky, Where eager stars are diamond-bright. So gaunt against the gibbous moon, Piercing the silence […]...
10. My Land and I They have eaten their fill at your tables spread, Like friends since the land was won; And they rise with a cry of “Australia’s dead!” With the wheeze of “Australia’s done!” Oh, the theme is stale, but they tell the tale (How the weak old tale will keep!) Like the crows that croak on a […]...
11. Heartbeat Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart Which safely exists in the center of all things? His giant heartbeat is diverted in us Into little pulses. And his giant grief Is, like his giant jubilation, far too Great for us. And so we tear ourselves away From him time after time, remaining only […]...
12. My Ships If all the ships I have at sea Should come a-sailing home to me, From sunny lands, and lands of cold, Ah well! the harbor could not hold So many sails as there would be If all my ships came in from sea. If half my ships came home from sea, And brought their precious […]...
13. Alone In The Woods Alone in the woods I felt The bitter hostility of the sky and the trees Nature has taught her creatures to hate Man that fusses and fumes Unquiet man As the sap rises in the trees As the sap paints the trees a violent green So rises the wrath of Nature’s creatures At man So […]...
14. The Dorchester Giant THERE was a giant in time of old, A mighty one was he; He had a wife, but she was a scold, So he kept her shut in his mammoth fold; And he had children three. It happened to be an election day, And the giants were choosing a king; The people were not democrats […]...
15. The Revenge – A Ballad of the Fleet At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, And a pinnace, like a fluttered bird, came flying from far away: ‘Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted’ Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: ”Fore God I am no coward; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, And […]...
16. Scenic Route For Lucy, who called them “ghost houses.” Someone was always leaving And never coming back. The wooden houses wait like old wives Along this road; they are everywhere, Abandoned, leaning, turning gray. Someone always traded The lonely beauty Of hemlock and stony lakeshore For survival, packed up his life And drove off to the city. […]...
17. The Winds Out of the West Land Blow The winds out of the west land blow, My friends have breathed them there; Warm with the blood of lads I know Comes east the sighing air. It fanned their temples, filled their lungs, Scattered their forelocks free; My friends made words of it with tongues That talk no more to me. Their voices, dying […]...
18. The Land of the Exile Mother, the light has grown grey in the sky; I do not know what The time is. There is no fun in my play, so I have come to you. It is Saturday, our holiday. Leave off your work, mother; sit here by the window and tell Me where the desert of Tepantar in the […]...
19. Upon A House Shaken By The Land Agitation How should the world be luckier if this house, Where passion and precision have been one Time out of mind, became too ruinous To breed the lidleSs eye that loves the sun? And the sweet laughing eagle thoughts that grow Where wings have memory of wings, and all That comes of the best knit to […]...
20. Fairy-Land Dim vales – and shadowy floods- And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can’t discover For the tears that drip all over! Huge moons there wax and wane- Again – again – again- Every moment of the night- Forever changing places- And they put out the star-light With the breath from their pale faces. About twelve […]...
21. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
22. Dream Land Where sunless rivers weep Their waves into the deep, She sleeps a charmed sleep: Awake her not. Led by a single star, She came from very far To seek where shadows are Her pleasant lot. She left the rosy morn, She left the fields of corn, For twilight cold and lorn And water springs. Through […]...
23. How the Land was Won The future was dark and the past was dead As they gazed on the sea once more – But a nation was born when the immigrants said “Good-bye!” as they stepped ashore! In their loneliness they were parted thus Because of the work to do, A wild wide land to be won for us By […]...
24. Composed Upon Westminster Bridge Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky, […]...
25. The arrival of spring (cathe waller) on the last day of winter i went to bed Harsh winds rainstorms beating my head Houses trees with a sucked-out look New year flaked from the old one’s hook Then overnight such a change of heart Spring come home with her confectionery cart Hundreds-and-thousands strewn in the breeze Houses sampling them as well as […]...
26. Charles Webster The pine woods on the hill, And the farmhouse miles away, Showed clear as though behind a lens Under a sky of peacock blue! But a blanket of cloud by afternoon Muffled the earth. And you walked the road And the clover field, where the only sound Was the cricket’s liquid tremolo. Then the sun […]...
27. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
28. The Grave Of Shelley Like burnt-out torches by a sick man’s bed Gaunt cypress-trees stand round the sun-bleached stone; Here doth the little night-owl make her throne, And the slight lizard show his jewelled head. And, where the chaliced poppies flame to red, In the still chamber of yon pyramid Surely some Old-World Sphinx lurks darkly hid, Grim warder […]...
29. The Earthly Paradise: The Lady of the Land The ArgumentA certain man having landed on an island in the Greek sea, found there a beautifuldamsel, whom he would fain have delivered from a strange & dreadful doom, butfailing herein, he died soon afterwards. It happened once, some men of Italy Midst the Greek Islands went a sea-roving, And much good fortune had they […]...
30. Winter Landscape The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older men, […]...
31. The Waste Land The Waste Land By T. S. Eliot “Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis Vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo.” I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull […]...
32. The Land When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald, In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field, He called to him Hobdenius-a Briton of the Clay, Saying: “What about that River-piece for layin” in to hay?” And the aged Hobden answered: “I remember as a lad My father told your father that she wanted dreenin’ bad. […]...
33. Over The Land Is April OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me, Hear my sonnets ring? Over the high, brown mountain, Love, do you hear me sing? By highway, love, and byway The snows succeed the rose. Over the high, brown […]...
34. The Land of Nod From breakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I stay, But every night I go abroad Afar into the land of Nod. All by myself I have to go, With none to tell me what to do All alone beside the streams And up the mountain-sides of dreams. The strangest things […]...
35. Australian Engineers Ah, well! but the case seems hopeless, and the pen might write in vain; The people gabble of old things over and over again. For the sake of the sleek importer we slave with the pick and the shears, While hundreds of boys in Australia long to be engineers. A new generation has risen under […]...
36. The Quest I sought Him on the purple seas, I sought Him on the peaks aflame; Amid the gloom of giant trees And canyons lone I called His name; The wasted ways of earth I trod: In vain! In vain! I found not God. I sought Him in the hives of men, The cities grand, the hamlets […]...
37. The Land of Story-Books At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing, And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl All in the dark along the wall, And follow round the forest track Away behind the sofa back. There, in the […]...
38. Rutherford McDowell They brought me ambrotypes Of the old pioneers to enlarge. And sometimes one sat for me- Some one who was in being When giant hands from the womb of the world Tore the republic. What was it in their eyes?- For I could never fathom That mystical pathos of drooped eyelids, And the serene sorrow […]...
39. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
40. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...