Nimium Fortunatus

Related poetry:

1. Awake, My Heart Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break, It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake The o’ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake! She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee: Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee, Already they watch the path thy […]...
2. Sonnets 12: Cherish You Then The Hope I Shall Forget Cherish you then the hope I shall forget At length, my lord, Pieria?-put away For your so passing sake, this mouth of clay These mortal bones against my body set, For all the puny fever and frail sweat Of human love,-renounce for these, I say, The Singing Mountain’s memory, and betray The silent lyre that […]...
3. A Ballad of Burial (“Saint Proxed’s ever was the Church for peace”) If down here I chance to die, Solemnly I beg you take All that is left of “I” To the Hills for old sake’s sake, Pack me very thoroughly In the ice that used to slake Pegs I drank when I was dry This observe for old […]...
4. Poem 5 WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time, The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed, All ready to her siluer coche to clyme, And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed. Hark how the cheerefull birds do chaunt theyr laies And carroll of loues praise. The merry Larke hir mattins sings aloft, The […]...
5. The Sonnets To Orpheus: XIX Though the world keeps changing its form As fast as a cloud, still What is accomplished falls home To the Primeval. Over the change and the passing, Larger and freer, Soars your eternal song, God with the lyre. Never has grief been possesed, Never has love been learned, And what removes us in death Is […]...
6. Cor Cordium O heart of hearts, the chalice of love’s fire, Hid round with flowers and all the bounty of bloom; O wonderful and perfect heart, for whom The lyrist liberty made life a lyre; O heavenly heart, at whose most dear desire Dead love, living and singing, cleft his tomb, And with him risen and regent […]...
7. Laughing Song When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy And the dimpling stream runs laughing by, When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it. When the meadows laugh with lively green And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene. When Mary and Susan […]...
8. Lines Written In The Belief That The Ancient Roman Festival Of The Dead Was Called Ambarvalia Swings the way still by hollow and hill, And all the world’s a song; “She’s far,” it sings me, “but fair,” it rings me, “Quiet,” it laughs, “and strong!” Oh! spite of the miles and years between us, Spite of your chosen part, I do remember; and I go With laughter in my heart. So […]...
9. He is alive, this morning He is alive, this morning He is alive and awake Birds are resuming for Him Blossoms dress for His Sake. Bees to their Loaves of Honey Add an Amber Crumb Him to regale Me Only Motion, and am dumb....
10. Nurse's Song (Innocence) When voices of children are heard on the green And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast And everything else is still Then come home my children the sun is gone down And the dews of night arise Come come leave off play, and let us away Till […]...
11. Sonnet LXI Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames […]...
12. The Victims Of The Little Box Not even in a dream Should you have anything to do With the little box If you saw her full of stars once You’d wake up Without heart or soul in your chest If you slid your tongue Into her keyhole once You’d wake up with a hole in your forehead If you ground her […]...
13. Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open Is it thy will thy image should keep open My heavy eyelids to the weary night? Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee So far from home into my deeds to pry, To find out shames […]...
14. Horse Fiddle FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late summer afternoon, reading it in less than a whisper to Jack on […]...
15. The Learner I’ve learned Of all the friends I’ve won Dame Nature is the best, And to her like a child I run Craving her mother breast To comfort me in soul distress, And in green glade to find Far from the world’s unloveliness Pure peace of mind. I’ve learned the worth of simple ways, And though […]...
16. Mirage The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapped For a dream’s sake. Lie still, lie […]...
17. 498. Song-For the sake o' Somebody MY heart is sair-I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody; I could wake a winter night For the sake o’ Somebody. O-hon! for Somebody! O-hey! for Somebody! I could range the world around, For the sake o’ Somebody. Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love, O, sweetly smile on Somebody! Frae ilka […]...
18. In San Lorenzo Is thine hour come to wake, O slumbering Night? Hath not the Dawn a message in thine ear? Though thou be stone and sleep, yet shalt thou hear When the word falls from heaven Let there be light. Thou knowest we would not do thee the despite To wake thee while the old sorrow and […]...
19. The Face in evanescence lain The Face in evanescence lain Is more distinct than ours And ours surrendered for its sake As Capsules are for Flower’s Or is it the confiding sheen Dissenting to enamor us Of Detriment divine?...
20. The Sleep-Worker When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wake and see – As one who, held in trance, has laboured long By vacant rote and prepossession strong – The coils that thou hast wrought unwittingly; Wherein have place, unrealized by thee, Fair growths, foul cankers, right enmeshed with wrong, Strange orchestras of victim-shriek and song, And curious […]...
21. Morning Poem #48 cold bed Gray day Memories Of “birds of prey” Talk for the sake Of words shaping Mouth moving Thoughts changing Energy moving Outside of self Talk for the sake Of a warm bed A sanny day And memories Of birds at play...
22. The West Wind IT’S a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds’ cries; I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills. And April’s in the west wind, and daffodils. It’s a fine land, the west land, for hearts as tired as mine, […]...
23. Blood Oranges In 1936, a child In Hitler’s Germany, What did I know about the war in Spain? Andalusia was a tango On a wind-up gramophone, Franco a hero’s face in the paper. No one told me about a poet For whose sake I might have learned Spanish Bleeding to death on a barren hill. All I […]...
24. Never Again Would Bird's Song Be The Same He would declare and could himself believe That the birds there in all the garden round From having heard the daylong voice of Eve Had added to their own an oversound, Her tone of meaning but without the words. Admittedly an eloquence so soft Could only have had an influence on birds When call or […]...
25. Three little birds in a row Three little birds in a row Sat musing. A man passed near that place. Then did the little birds nudge each other. They said, “He thinks he can sing.” They threw back their heads to laugh. With quaint countenances They regarded him. They were very curious, Those three little birds in a row....
26. The Red Shirt “…his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing, Like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die in.” -Vargas Llosa If I gave 5 birds Each 4 eyes I would be blind Unto the 3rd Generation, if I Gave no one a word For a day And let the day Grow into […]...
27. If I were dead ‘IF I were dead, you’d sometimes say, Poor Child!’ The dear lips quiver’d as they spake, And the tears brake From eyes which, not to grieve me, brightly smiled. Poor Child, poor Child! I seem to hear your laugh, your talk, your song. It is not true that Love will do no wrong. Poor Child! […]...
28. Independence Come to my arms – is it eve? is it morn? Is Apollo awake? Is Diana reborn? Are the streams in full song? Do the woods whisper hush Is it the nightingale? Is it the thrush? Is it the smile of the autumn, the blush Of the spring? Is the world full of peace or […]...
29. What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet XLIII) What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply, And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain For unremembered lads that […]...
30. Spring Birds’ love and birds’ song Flying here and there, Birds’ songand birds’ love And you with gold for hair! Birds’ songand birds’ love Passing with the weather, Men’s song and men’s love, To love once and forever. Men’s love and birds’ love, And women’s love and men’s! And you my wren with a crown of […]...
31. No, Thank You John I never said I loved you, John: Why will you tease me day by day, And wax a weariness to think upon With always “do” and “pray”? You Know I never loved you, John; No fault of mine made me your toast: Why will you haunt me with a face as wan As shows an […]...
32. Father Death Blues (Don't Grow Old, Part V) Hey Father Death, I’m flying home Hey poor man, you’re all alone Hey old daddy, I know where I’m going Father Death, Don’t cry any more Mama’s there, underneath the floor Brother Death, please mind the store Old Aunty Death Don’t hide your bones Old Uncle Death I hear your groans O Sister Death how […]...
33. The Angle of a Landscape The Angle of a Landscape That every time I wake Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack Like a Venetian waiting Accosts my open eye Is just a Bough of Apples Held slanting, in the Sky The Pattern of a Chimney The Forehead of a Hill Sometimes a Vane’s Forefinger But that’s […]...
34. Homer's Seeing-Eye Dog Most of the time he worked, a sort of sleep With a purpose, so far as I could tell. How he got from the dark of sleep To the dark of waking up I’ll never know; The lax sprawl sleep allowed him Began to set from the edges in, Like a custard, and then he […]...
35. Exhortation: Summer 1919 Through the pregnant universe rumbles life’s terrific thunder, And Earth’s bowels quake with terror; strange and terrible storms break, Lightning-torches flame the heavens, kindling souls of men, thereunder: Africa! long ages sleeping, O my motherland, awake! In the East the clouds glow crimson with the new dawn that is breaking, And its golden glory fills […]...
36. I learned at least what Home could be I learned at least what Home could be How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant How awkward at the Hymn Round our new Fireside but for this This pattern of the Way Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip Of a Celestial Sea What Mornings in our Garden guessed What Bees for […]...
37. La Belle Dame Sans Merci Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing. Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full, And the harvest’s done. I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever […]...
38. Miss Loo When thin-strewn memory I look through, I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair her muffled words, And how she’d open her green eyes, As if in some immense surprise, Whenever as we sat at tea, She made some small remark to me. It’s always […]...
39. The Mocking-Bird Superb and sole, upon a plumed spray That o’er the general leafage boldly grew, He summ’d the woods in song; or typic drew The watch of hungry hawks, the lone dismay Of languid doves when long their lovers stray, And all birds’ passion-plays that sprinkle dew At morn in brake or bosky avenue. Whate’er birds […]...
40. Duino Elegies: The Fourth Elegy O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes? We are not of one mind. Are not like birds In unison migrating. And overtaken, Overdue, we thrust ourselves into the wind And fall to earth into indifferent ponds. Blossoming and withering we comprehend as one. And somewhere lions roam, quite unaware, In their magnificence, of […]...