Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet V

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1. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet VI High in the air expos’d the Slave is hung To all the birds of Heaven, their living food! He groans not, tho’ awaked by that fierce Sun New torturers live to drink their parent blood! He groans not, tho’ the gorging Vulture tear The quivering fibre! hither gaze O ye Who tore this Man from […]...
2. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet III Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run Down his dark cheek; hold hold thy merciless hand, Pale tyrant! for beneath thy hard command O’erwearied Nature sinks. The scorching Sun, As pityless as proud Prosperity, Darts on him his full beams; gasping he lies Arraigning with his looks the patient skies, While that […]...
3. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet I Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? For ever must your Nigers tainted flood Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain? Hold your mad hands! what daemon prompts to rear The arm of Slaughter? on your savage shore Can hell-sprung Glory claim the […]...
4. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet II Why dost thou beat thy breast and rend thine hair, And to the deaf sea pour thy frantic cries? Before the gale the laden vessel flies; The Heavens all-favoring smile, the breeze is fair; Hark to the clamors of the exulting crew! Hark how their thunders mock the patient skies! Why dost thou shriek and […]...
5. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet IV ‘Tis night; the mercenary tyrants sleep As undisturb’d as Justice! but no more The wretched Slave, as on his native shore, Rests on his reedy couch: he wakes to weep! Tho’ thro’ the toil and anguish of the day No tear escap’d him, not one suffering groan Beneath the twisted thong, he weeps alone In […]...
6. The Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point I. I stand on the mark beside the shore Of the first white pilgrim’s bended knee, Where exile turned to ancestor, And God was thanked for liberty. I have run through the night, my skin is as dark, I bend my knee down on this mark. . . I look on the sky and the […]...
7. Sonnet XXXVII: When, in the Gloomy Mansion When, in the gloomy mansion of the dead, This with’ring heart, this faded form shall sleep; When these fond eyes, at length shall cease to weep, And earth’s cold lap receive this fev’rish head; Envy shall turn away, a tear to shed, And Time’s obliterating pinions sweep The spot, where poets shall their vigils keep, […]...
8. Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour, Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence […]...
9. Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th’ account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure! O, let me suffer, being at your beck, Th’ imprisoned absence of your liberty, And patience tame to sufferance, […]...
10. Where is the Slave Oh, where’s the slave so lowly, Condemn’d to chains unholy, Who, could he burst His bonds at first, Would pine beneath them slowly? What soul, whose wrongs degrade it, Would wait till time decay’d it, When thus its wing At once may spring To the throne of Him who made it? Farewell, Erin, farewell, all, […]...
11. Sonnet 07 (to the rainbow) Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray Each in the other melting. Much mine eye Delights to linger on thee; for the day, Changeful and many-weather’d, seem’d to smile Flashing brief splendor thro’ its clouds awhile, That deepen’d dark anon and fell in […]...
12. Sonnet 01 Go Valentine and tell that lovely maid Whom Fancy still will pourtray to my sight, How her Bard lingers in this sullen shade, This dreary gloom of dull monastic night. Say that from every joy of life remote At evening’s closing hour he quits the throng, Listening alone the ring-dove’s plaintive note Who pours like […]...
13. THE SLAVE'S DREAM Beside the ungathered rice he lay, His sickle in his hand; His breast was bare, his matted hair Was buried in the sand. Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep, He saw his Native Land. Wide through the landscape of his dreams The lordly Niger flowed; Beneath the palm-trees on the plain Once more […]...
14. Poems Done on a Late Night Car I. CHICKENS I am The Great White Way of the city: When you ask what is my desire, I answer: “Girls fresh as country wild flowers, With young faces tired of the cows and barns, Eager in their eyes as the dawn to find my mysteries, Slender supple girls with shapely legs, Lure in the […]...
15. Sonnet XXIX When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deal heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s […]...
16. Sonnet 29: When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes When, in disgrace with Fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possessed, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s […]...
17. Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck, And yet methinks I have astronomy- But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, ‘Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, Or say with princes if it shall go […]...
18. Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck (Sonnet 14) Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck, And yet methinks I have astronomy; But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, Or say with princes if it shall go […]...
19. Sonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s […]...
20. Sonnet LXVI: The Night-Flood Rakes The night-flood rakes upon the stony shore; Along the rugged cliffs and chalky caves Mourns the hoarse Ocean, seeming to deplore All that are buried in his restless waves- Mined by corrosive tides, the hollow rock Falls prone, and rushing from its turfy height, Shakes the broad beach with long-resounding shock, Loud thundering on the […]...
21. Scots, Wha Hae Wi' Wallace Bled Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; See the front o’ battle lour, See approach proud Edward’s power – Chains and slavery! Wha will be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward’s grave? Wha sae […]...
22. Recalled Long after there were none of them alive About the place-where there is now no place But a walled hole where fruitless vines embrace Their parent skeletons that yet survive In evil thorns-none of us could arrive At a more cogent answer to their ways Than one old Isaac in his latter days Had humor […]...
23. September I, from a window where the Meuse is wide, Looked eastward out to the September night; The men that in the hopeless battle died Rose, and deployed, and stationed for the fight; A brumal army, vague and ordered large For mile on mile by some pale general,- I saw them lean by companies to the […]...
24. Smiles Smile a little, smile a little, As you go along, Not alone when life is pleasant, But when things go wrong. Care delights to see you frowning, Loves to hear you sigh; Turn a smiling face upon her – Quick the dame will fly. Smile a little, smile a little, All along the road; Every […]...
25. The Galley-Slave Oh gallant was our galley from her caren steering-wheel To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel; The leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for cooler air, But no galley on the waters with our galley could compare! Our bulkheads bulged with cotton and our masts were stepped in gold We […]...
26. The Trade They bear, in place of classic names, Letters and numbers on their skin. They play their grisly blindfold games In little boxes made of tin. Sometimes they stalk the Zeppelin, Sometimes they learn where mines are laid, Or where the Baltic ice is thin. That is the custom of “The Trade.” Few prize-courts sit upon […]...
27. 148. To Miss Logan, with Beattie's Poems AGAIN the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho’ scarce in maiden prime, Are so much nearer Heaven. No gifts have I from Indian coasts The infant year to hail; I send you more than India boasts, In Edwin’s simple tale. Our sex with guile, and faithless love, Is charg’d, […]...
28. I'll have to change my mind I’ll have to change my mind on war, I need to take a break From structured thought; there’s more to peace – it dictates A longer oar to keep the calm than takes to make a little war. Our history as a people is a theatre of strife and where We celebrate the life of […]...
29. Trade Winds IN the harbor, in the island, in the Spanish Seas, Are the tiny white houses and the orange trees, And day-long, night-long, the cool and pleasant breeze Of the steady Trade Winds blowing. There is the red wine, the nutty Spanish ale, The shuffle of the dancers, the old salt’s tale, The squeaking fiddle, and […]...
30. Sonnet 04 What tho’ no sculptur’d monument proclaim Thy fate-yet Albert in my breast I bear Inshrin’d the sad remembrance; yet thy name Will fill my throbbing bosom. When DESPAIR The child of murdered HOPE, fed on thy heart, Loved honored friend, I saw thee sink forlorn Pierced to the soul by cold Neglect’s keen dart, And […]...
31. Sonnet LVII SWeet warriour when shall I haue peace with you? High time it is, this warre now ended were: Which I no lenger can endure to sue, Ne your incessant battry more to beare: So weake my powres, so sore my wounds appeare, That wonder is how I should liue a iot, Seeing my hart through […]...
32. The Song Of The Wage-Slave When the long, long day is over, and the Big Boss gives me my pay, I hope that it won’t be hell-fire, as some of the parsons say. And I hope that it won’t be heaven, with some of the parsons I’ve met All I want is just quiet, just to rest and forget. Look […]...
33. Occasional Poems I Christmas Poem for Nancy Noel, Noel We live and we die Between heaven and hell Between the earth and the sky And all shall be well And all shall be unwell And once again! all shall once again! All shall be well By the ringing and the swinging of the great beautiful holiday bell […]...
34. Sonnet XXVIII: Weak Is the Sophistry Weak is the sophistry, and vain the art That whispers patience to the mind’s despair! That bids reflection bathe the wounds of care, While Hope, with pleasing phantoms, soothes their smart. For mem’ry still, reluctant to depart From the dear spot, once rich in prospects fair, Bids the fond soul enamour’d there, And its least […]...
35. Two Poems from the War Oh, not the loss of the accomplished thing! Not dumb farewells, nor long relinquishment Of beauty had, and golden summer spent, And savage glory of the fluttering Torn banners of the rain, and frosty ring Of moon-white winters, and the imminent Long-lunging seas, and glowing students bent To race on some smooth beach the gull’s […]...
36. XII. Written at a Convent IF chance some pensive stranger, hither led, His bosom glowing from majestic views, The gorgeous dome, or the proud landscape’s hues, Should ask who sleeps beneath this lowly bed ‘Tis poor Matilda! To the cloister’d scene, A mourner, beauteous and unknown, she came, To shed her tears unseen; and quench the flame Of fruitless love: […]...
37. Two spanish poems (a) orihuela-time The sun in orihuela calms the dust And people glide about the streets at ease (problems left indoors to cool themselves) Time has grown fat and no one cares To pin each minute to its proper place The day is long tomorrow’s not yet real Doves and old men occupy the squares Nattering […]...
38. The Something Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heavens. What they thought about Stayed the same, Stayed immense and incomprehensible. My mother and father smile at each other Knowingly above the mantel. The cat sleeps on, the dog Growls in his sleep. The stove is cold and so is the bed. Now […]...
39. Unfortunate Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That’s tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, “She is most wise, patient and kind. Between the small hands folded in her lap Surely a shamed head may bow down at length, And find forgiveness where the shadows stir About her lips, and wisdom in her […]...
40. Sonnet VI: Some Lovers Speak Some lovers speak when they their Muses entertain, Of hopes begot by fear, of wot not what desires: Of force of heav’nly beams, infusing hellish pain: Of living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires. Some one his song in Jove, and Jove’s strange tales attires, Broidered with bulls and swans, powdered with golden […]...