Bingo

Related poetry:

1. Within my reach! Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village Sauntered as soft away! So unsuspected Violets Within the meadows go Too late for striving fingers That passed, an hour ago!...
2. Frigid and sweet Her parting Face Frigid and sweet Her parting Face Frigid and fleet my Feet Alien and vain whatever Clime Acrid whatever Fate. Given to me without the Suit Riches and Name and Realm Who was She to withhold from me Penury and Home?...
3. Julie Claire Oh Julie Claire was very fair, Yet generous as well, And many a lad of metal had A saucy tale to tell Of sultry squeeze beneath the trees Or hugging in the hay. . . Of love her share had Julie Claire When life was lush and gay. And then the village wealth to pillage […]...
4. Oh, Is It Love? O is it Love or is it Fame, This thing for which I sigh? Or has it then no earthly name For men to call it by? I know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish; The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash....
5. My Bees: An Allegory “O bees, sweet bees!” I said, “that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.” Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield, I set, and patient for the autumn’s yield Of sweet I waited. When the village bells Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells […]...
6. Domestic Scene The meal was o’er, the lamp was lit, The family sat in its glow; The Mother never ceased to knit, The Daughter never slacked to sew; The Father read his evening news, The Son was playing solitaire: If peace a happy home could choose I’m sure you’d swear that it was there. BUT The Mother: […]...
7. The Return See, they return; ah, see the tentative Movements, and the slow feet, The trouble in the pace and the uncertain Wavering! See, they return, one, and by one, With fear, as half-awakened; As if the snow should hesitate And murmur in the wind, and half turn back; These were the “Wing’d-with-Awe,” Inviolable. Gods of the […]...
8. Late, Late, So Late Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill! Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light had we: for that we do repent; And learning this, the bridegroom will relent. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now. No light: so late! […]...
9. The Village Blacksmith Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns […]...
10. Let Evening Come Let the light of late afternoon Shine through chinks in the barn, moving Up the bales as the sun moves down. Let the cricket take up chafing As a woman takes up her needles And her yarn. Let evening come. Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned In long grass. Let the stars appear And […]...
11. Sweet Love, Sweet Thorn, When Lightly To My Heart Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain, And lie disheveled in the grass apart, A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain, While rainy evening drips to misty night, And misty night to cloudy morning clears, And clouds disperse across the gathering light, And […]...
12. Sonnet 33 – Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear The name I used to run at, when a child, From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled, To glance up in some face that proved me dear With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled Into […]...
13. Sonnet XXXIX SWeet smile, the daughter of the Queene of loue, Expressing all thy mothers powrefull art: With which she wonts to temper angry loue, When all the gods he threats with thundring dart. Sweet is thy vertue as thy selfe sweet art, For when on me thou shinedst late in sadnesse: A melting pleasance ran through […]...
14. My Twins Of twin daughters I’m the mother – Lord! how I was proud of them; Each the image of the other, Like two lilies on one stem; But while May, my first-born daughter, Was angelic from the first, Different as wine and water, Maude, my second, seemed accurst. I’m a tender-hearted dame, Military is my bent; […]...
15. The Song of Fionnuala Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water, Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose, While, murmuring mournfully, Lir’s lonely daughter Tell’s to the night-star her tale of woes. When shall the swan, her death-note singing, Sleep, with wings in darkness furl’d? When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing, Call my spirit from […]...
16. Eden is that old-fashioned House Eden is that old-fashioned House We dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode Until we drive away. How fair on looking back, the Day We sauntered from the Door Unconscious our returning, But discover it no more....
17. John Evereldown “Where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are you going, John Evereldown? There’s never the sign of a star in sight, Nor a lamp that’s nearer than Tilbury Town. Why do you stare as a dead man might? Where are you pointing away from the light? And where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are […]...
18. God's Vagabond A passion to be free Has ever mastered me; To none beneath the sun Will I bow down, not one Shall leash my liberty. My life’s my own; I rise With glory in my eyes; And my concept of hell Is to be forced to sell Myself to one who buys. With heart of rebel […]...
19. Lover's Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool She dwelt here by the pool with its landing-stairs in ruins. Many An evening she had watched the moon made dizzy by the shaking of Bamboo leaves, and on many a rainy day the smell of the wet earth Had come to her over the young shoots of rice. Her pet name is known here […]...
20. Come down, O Maid COME down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang), In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire; And come, for Love […]...
21. The Shepherd How sweet is the Shepherd’s sweet lot, From the morn to the evening he strays: He shall follow his sheep all the day And his tongue shall be filled with praise. For he hears the lambs innocent call, And he hears the ewes tender reply, He is watchful while they are in peace, For they […]...
22. Defamation Whey are those tears in your eyes, my child? How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing! You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing- Is that why they call you dirty? O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because It has smudged its face […]...
23. THE PAGE AND THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER PAGE. WHERE goest thou? Where? Miller’s daughter so fair! Thy name, pray? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. ‘Tis Lizzy. PAGE. Where goest thou? Where? With the rake in thy hand? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. Father’s meadows and land To visit, I’m busy. PAGE. Dost go there alone? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. By this rake, sir, ’tis shown That we’re making the hay; […]...
24. A. D. Blood If you in the village think that my work was a good one, Who closed the saloons and stopped all playing at cards, And haled old Daisy Fraser before Justice Arnett, In many a crusade to purge the people of sin; Why do you let the milliner’s daughter Dora, And the worthless son of Benjamin […]...
25. Daughter leaves and leaving call october home Her daughter releases wood Smoke from her skin Rich in scorpio Blood survived the first Flood each new year marks A circle around her Thick bark middle This the month summer and Winter fall into each Other and leave orange Yellow ashes The vibrancy of death Carry it all […]...
26. You, Andrew Marvell And here face down beneath the sun And here upon earth’s noonward height To feel the always coming on The always rising of the night To feel creep up the curving east The earthy chill of dusk and slow Upon those under lands the vast And ever climbing shadow grow And strange at Ecbatan the […]...
27. Metaphors Of A Magnifico Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges, Into twenty villages, Or one man Crossing a single bridge into a village. This is old song That will not declare itself. . . Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are Twenty men crossing a bridge Into a village. […]...
28. Pinup The murkiness of the local garage is not so dense That you cannot make out the calendar of pinup Drawings on the wall above a bench of tools. Your ears are ringing with the sound of The mechanic hammering on your exhaust pipe, And as you look closer you notice that this month’s Is not […]...
29. For Catherine: Juana, Infanta of Navarre Ferdinand was systematic when He drove his daughter mad. With a Casanova’s careful art, He moved slowly, Stole only one child at a time Through tunnels specially dug Behind the walls of her royal Chamber, then paid the Duenna Well to remember nothing But his appreciation. Imagine how quietly The servants must have worked, Loosening […]...
30. After the rain Resurgent greens and stronger hues Combined within the colours in-between Will spring again, the reddish brown Has nearly gone and all the silver Greys erased in darker shades That shine with slickly natured stains After the gentle, gentle rain. Clouded skies unite and demonize The dry and dusty plight of days of brutal Beating sun […]...
31. Baby Sitter From torrid heat to frigid cold I’ve rovered land and sea; And now, with halting heart I hold My grandchild on my knee: Yet while I’ve eighty years all told, Of moons she has but three. She sleeps, that fragile miniature Of future maidenhood; She will be wonderful, I’m sure, As over her I brood; […]...
32. Bacchanalia The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is the half-mown plain, Silent the swaths! the ringing wain, The mower’s cry, the dog’s alarms, All housed within the sleeping farms! The business of the day is done, The last-left haymaker is gone. And from […]...
33. Nursing You On the first night Of the full moon, The primeval sack of ocean Broke, & I gave birth to you Little woman, Little carrot top, Little turned-up nose, Pushing you out of myself As my mother Pushed Me out of herself, As her mother did, & her mother’s mother before her, All of us born […]...
34. Let me be to Thee as the circling bird Let me be to Thee as the circling bird, Or bat with tender and air-crisping wings That shapes in half-light his departing rings, From both of whom a changeless note is heard. I have found my music in a common word, Trying each pleasurable throat that sings And every praised sequence of sweet strings, And […]...
35. Grumpy Grandpa Grand-daughter of the Painted Nails, As if they had been dipped in gore, I’d like to set you lugging pails And make you scrub the kitchen floor. I’m old and crotchety of course, And on this point my patience fails; I’d sue my old girl for divorce If she showed up with painted nails. Grand-daughter […]...
36. A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
37. 420. Lines of John M'Murdo, Esq BLEST be M’Murdo to his latest day! No envious cloud o’ercast his evening ray; No wrinkle, furrow’d by the hand of care, Nor ever sorrow add one silver hair! O may no son the father’s honour stain, Nor ever daughter give the mother pain!...
38. Flying at Forty You call me Courageous, I who grew up Gnawing on books, As some kids Gnaw On bubble gum, Who married disastrously Not once But three times, Yet have a lovely daughter I would not undo For all the dope In California. Fear was my element, Fear my contagion. I swam in it Till I became […]...
39. Good-Night Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill Which severs those it should unite; Let us remain together still, Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night good, Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? Be it not said, thought, understood Then it will be good night. To hearts which near […]...
40. On The Farm There was Dai Puw. He was no good. They put him in the fields to dock swedes, And took the knife from him, when he came home At late evening with a grin Like the slash of a knife on his face. There was Llew Puw, and he was no good. Every evening after the […]...