Finality

Related poetry:

1. The Puzzled Game-Birds They are not those who used to feed us When we were young they cannot be – These shapes that now bereave and bleed us? They are not those who used to feed us, – For would they not fair terms concede us? – If hearts can house such treachery They are not those who […]...
2. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
3. Sonnet XXVI: I Ever Love To Despair I ever love where never hope appears, Yet hope draws on my never-hoping care, And my life’s hope would die, but for despair; My never-certain joy breeds ever-certain fears; Uncertain dread gives wings unto my hope, Yet my hope’s wings are laden so with fear As they cannot ascend to my hope’s sphere; […]...
4. Enemy Conscript What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) Freedom to starve or slave! Freedom! aye, in the grave. Fighting for “hearth and home,” Who haven’t an inch of loam? Hearth? Why even a byre Can only be ours for hire. Dying for future […]...
5. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
6. My Soul is Dark My soul is dark – Oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o’er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again: If in these eyes there lurk a tear, ‘Twill flow, and cease […]...
7. A Prayer Again! Come, give, yield all your strength to me! From far a low word breathes on the breaking brain Its cruel calm, submission’s misery, Gentling her awe as to a soul predestined. Cease, silent love! My doom! Blind me with your dark nearness, O have mercy, beloved enemy of my will! I dare not withstand […]...
8. To A Tycoon Since much has been your mirth And fair your fate, Friend, leave your lot of earth Less desolate. With frailing overdue, Why don’t you try The bit of God in you To justify? Try to discern the grace All greed above, That may uplift the race To realm of love. For in you is a […]...
9. Endurance HE bent above: so still her breath What air she breathed he could not say, Whether in worlds of life or death: So softly ebbed away, away, The life that had been light to him, So fled her beauty leaving dim The emptying chambers of his heart Thrilled only by the pang and smart, The […]...
10. Sonnet XLVI: Plain-Path'd Experience Plain-path’d Experience, th’unlearned’s guide, Her simple followers evidently shows Sometimes what Schoolmen scarcely can decide, Nor yet wise Reason absolutely knows. In making trial of a murther wrought, If the vile actors of the heinous deed Near the dead body happily be brought, Oft it hath been prov’d the breathless corse will bleed. She’s coming […]...
11. Worms Worms finer for fishing you couldn’t be wishing; I delved them dismayed from the velvety sod; The rich loam upturning I gathered them squirming, Big, fat, gleamy earthworms, all ripe for my rod. Thinks I, without waiting, my hook I’ll be baiting, And flip me a fish from the foam of the pool; Then Mother […]...
12. Echo to Him Who Complains O FLY thee from the shades of night, Where the loud tempests yelling rise; Where horrror wings her sullen flight Beneath the bleak and lurid skies. As the pale light’ning swiftly gleams O’er the scorch’d wood, thy well-known form More radiant than an angel seems, Contending with the ruthless storm. I see the scowling witch, […]...
13. 527. Song-Address to the Woodlark O STAY, sweet warbling woodlark, stay, Nor quit for me the trembling spray, A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing, fond complaining. Again, again that tender part, That I may catch thy melting art; For surely that wad touch her heart Wha kills me wi’ disdaining. Say, was thy little mate unkind, And heard […]...
14. 528. Song-On Chloris being ill Chorus-Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul’s delight Is on her bed of sorrow. CAN I cease to care? Can I cease to languish, While my darling Fair Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long, &c. Ev’ry hope is fled, Ev’ry fear is terror, Slumber ev’n I dread, Ev’ry dream […]...
15. 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, […]...
16. The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow through the Groves a wand’ring Muse And fain’d Idea’s for my pleasures chuse Why shou’d it in my Pen be held a fault Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought Whilst Lamia to […]...
17. The Song of the Garden-Toad Down, down beneath the daisy beds, O hear the cries of pain! And moaning on the cinder-path They’re blind amid the rain. Can murmurs of the worms arise To higher hearts than mine? I wonder if that gardener hears Who made the mold all fine And packed each gentle seedling down So carefully in line? […]...
18. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
19. Sorrow SORROW, on wing through the world for ever, Here and there for awhile would borrow Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow. One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough With pain, a weed in a dried-up river, A rust-red share in an empty furrow. Hearts that strain at her chain would sever The […]...
20. The Power of the Dog There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a pup and your money will […]...
21. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
22. The Summary History of Sir William Wallace Sir William Wallace of Ellerslie, I’m told he went to the High School in Dundee, For to learn to read and write, And after that he learned to fight, While at the High School in Dundee, The Provost’s son with him disagree, Because Wallace did wear a dirk, He despised him like an ignorant stirk, […]...
23. The Rhyme Of The Remittance Man There’s a four-pronged buck a-swinging in the shadow of my cabin, And it roamed the velvet valley till to-day; But I tracked it by the river, and I trailed it in the cover, And I killed it on the mountain miles away. Now I’ve had my lazy supper, and the level sun is gleaming On […]...
24. The Scribe's Prayer When from my fumbling hand the tired pen falls, And in the twilight weary droops my head; While to my quiet heart a still voice calls, Calls me to join my kindred of the Dead: Grant that I may, O Lord, ere rest be mine, Write to Thy praise one radiant, ringing line. For all […]...
25. Cocotte When a girl’s sixteen, and as poor as she’s pretty, And she hasn’t a friend and she hasn’t a home, Heigh-ho! She’s as safe in Paris city As a lamb night-strayed where the wild wolves roam; And that was I; oh, it’s seven years now (Some water’s run down the Seine since then), And I’ve […]...
26. My Cross I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone would praise a bit Its purity and grace forlone, Its beauty tulip-cool… But as my poem died still-born, I felt a fool. I wrote a verse of vulgar trend Spiced with an oath or two; […]...
27. The End If I could have put you in my heart, If but I could have wrapped you in myself, How glad I should have been! And now the chart Of memory unrolls again to me The course of our journey here, before we had to part. And oh, that you had never, never been Some of […]...
28. Kin To Sorrow Am I kin to Sorrow, That so oft Falls the knocker of my door Neither loud nor soft, But as long accustomed, Under Sorrow’s hand? Marigolds around the step And rosemary stand, And then comes Sorrow- And what does Sorrow care For the rosemary Or the marigolds there? Am I kin to Sorrow? Are we […]...
29. My Rival If she met him or he met her, I knew that something must occur; For they were just like flint and steel To strike the spark of woe and weal; Or like two splinters broken fine, In perfect fitness to combine; And so I ept them well apart, For she was precious to my heart. […]...
30. My Soul Thirsteth for God I thirst, but not as once I did, The vain delights of earth to share; Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid That I should seek my pleasures there. It was the sight of Thy dear cross First wean’d my soul from earthly things; And taught me to esteem as dross The mirth of fools and pomp […]...
31. Weary Some praise the Lord for Light, The living spark; I thank God for the Night The healing dark. When wearily I lie, With aching sight, With what thanksgiving I Turn out the light! When to night’s drowsy deep Serene I sink, How glad am I to sleep, To cease to think! From care and fret […]...
32. I Do Not Speak I do not ask for mercy for understanding for peace And in these heavy days I do not ask for release I do not ask that suffering shall cease. I do not pray to God to let me die To give an ear attentive to my cry To pause in his marching and not hurry […]...
33. April No one’s despair is like my despair You have no place in this garden Thinking such things, producing The tiresome outward signs; the man Pointedly weeding an entire forest, The woman limping, refusing to change clothes Or wash her hair. Do you suppose I care If you speak to one another? But I mean you […]...
34. If You are a Man If you are a man, and believe in the destiny of mankind Then say to yourself: we will cease to care About property and money and mechanical devices, And open our consciousness to the deep, mysterious life That we are now cut off from. The machine shall be abolished from the earth again; It is […]...
35. Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell. Nay if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it, for I love you so That I […]...
36. Sonnet LXXI No longer mourn for me when I am dead Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so That I […]...
37. Love (I) Immortal love, authour of this great frame, Sprung from that beautie which can never fade; How hath man parcel’d out thy glorious name, And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made, While mortall love doth all the title gain! Which siding with invention, they together Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain, […]...
38. The Womb Up from the evil day Of wattle and of woad, Along man’s weary way Dark Pain has been the goad. Back from the age of stone, Within his brutish brain, What pleasure he has known Is ease from Pain. Behold in Pain the force That haled Man from the Pit, And set him such a […]...
39. Wilful Missing (Deserters) There is a world outside the one you know, To which for curiousness ‘Ell can’t compare It is the place where “wilful-missings” go, As we can testify, for we are there. You may ‘ave read a bullet laid us low, That we was gathered in “with reverent care” And buried proper. But it was […]...
40. Convicts Love Canaries Dick’s dead! It was the Polack guard Put powdered glass into his cage When I was tramping round the yard, I could have killed him in my rage. I slugged him with that wrench I stole: That’s why I’m rotting in the Hole. Dick’s dead! Sure I wish I was too. His honey breast, his […]...