Sailor's Sweetheart

Related poetry:

1. The King's Experiment It was a wet wan hour in spring, And Nature met King Doom beside a lane, Wherein Hodge trudged, all blithely ballading The Mother’s smiling reign. “Why warbles he that skies are fair And coombs alight,” she cried, “and fallows gay, When I have placed no sunshine in the air Or glow on earth to-day?” […]...
2. The Rainy Day The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; […]...
3. Ailsie, My Bairn Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn, Lie in my arms and dinna greit; Long time been past syn I kenned you last, But my harte been allwais the same, my swete. Ailsie, I colde not say you ill, For out of the mist of your bitter tears, And the prayers that rise from your […]...
4. Idyll In the grey summer garden I shall find you With day-break and the morning hills behind you. There will be rain-wet roses; stir of wings; And down the wood a thrush that wakes and sings. Not from the past you’ll come, but from that deep Where beauty murmurs to the soul asleep: And I shall […]...
5. Dream Song 49: Blind Old Pussy-cat if he won’t eat, he don’t Feel good into his tum’, old Pussy-cat. He wants to have eaten. Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can’t. A dizzy swims of where is Henry at; . . . somewhere streng verboten. How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death: Locate the restorations of […]...
6. Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her Mistress on Britannia’s Throne; Fights, […]...
7. By my sweetheart Sweetheart, be my sweetheart When birds are on the wing, When bee and bud and babbling flood Bespeak the birth of spring, Come, sweetheart, be my sweetheart And wear this posy-ring! Sweetheart, be my sweetheart In the mellow golden glow Of earth aflush with the gracious blush Which the ripening fields foreshow; Dear sweetheart, be […]...
8. The Drover's Sweetheart An hour before the sun goes down Behind the ragged boughs, I go across the little run And bring the dusty cows; And once I used to sit and rest Beneath the fading dome, For there was one that I loved best Who’d bring the cattle home. Our yard is fixed with double bails, Round […]...
9. O Sweetheart, Hear You O Sweetheart, hear you Your lover’s tale; A man shall have sorrow When friends him fail. For he shall know then Friends be untrue And a little ashes Their words come to. But one unto him Will softly move And softly woo him In ways of love. His hand is under Her smooth round breast; […]...
10. 123. Lines to an Old Sweetheart ONCE fondly lov’d, and still remember’d dear, Sweet early object of my youthful vows, Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere, Friendship! ’tis all cold duty now allows. And when you read the simple artless rhymes, One friendly sigh for him-he asks no more, Who, distant, burns in flaming torrid climes, Or haply lies beneath […]...
11. Florrie Because I was a wonton wild And welcomed many a lover, Who is the father of my child I wish I could discover. For though I know it is not right In tender arms to tarry, A barmaid has to be polite To Tom and Dick and Harry. My truest love was Poacher Jim: I […]...
12. The Source The sleep that flits on baby’s eyes-does anybody know from where It comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, In the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with Glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it Comes to kiss baby’s eyes. The smile that […]...
13. 507. Song-Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay CAULD is the e’enin blast, O’ Boreas o’er the pool, An’ dawin’ it is dreary, When birks are bare at Yule. Cauld blaws the e’enin blast, When bitter bites the frost, And, in the mirk and dreary drift, The hills and glens are lost: Ne’er sae murky blew the night That drifted o’er the hill, […]...
14. The Sea Took Pity The sea took pity: it interposed with doom: ‘I have tall daughters dear that heed my hand: Let Winter wed one, sow them in her womb, And she shall child them on the New-world strand.’ . . . . . . . ....
15. Soldier an' Sailor Too As I was spittin’ into the Ditch aboard o’ the Crocodile, I seed a man on a man-o’-war got up in the Reg’lars’ style. ‘E was scrapin’ the paint from off of ‘er plates, an’ I sez to ‘im, “‘Oo are you?” Sez ‘e, “I’m a Jolly ‘Er Majesty’s Jolly soldier an’ sailor too!” Now […]...
16. Bring me the sunset in a cup Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadth of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new Robin’s ecstasy Among astonished boughs How many trips […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. 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; […]...
19. The Everlasting Battle WHEN in my shadowy hours I pierce the hidden heart of hopes and fears, They change into immortal joys or end in immemorial tears. Moytura’s battle still endures and in this human heart of mine The golden sun powers with the might of demon darkness intertwine. I think that every teardrop shed still flows from […]...
20. In the Womb STILL rests the heavy share on the dark soil: Upon the black mould thick the dew-damp lies: The horse waits patient: from his lowly toil The ploughboy to the morning lifts his eyes. The unbudding hedgerows dark against day’s fires Glitter with gold-lit crystals: on the rim Over the unregarding city’s spires The lonely beauty […]...
21. Prelude – Tristan And Isolde Fate, out of the deep sea’s gloom, When a man’s heart’s pride grows great, And nought seems now to foredoom Fate, Fate, laden with fears in wait, Draws close through the clouds that loom, Till the soul see, all too late, More dark than a dead world’s tomb, More high than the sheer dawn’s gate, […]...
22. Serenade (For Music) The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark AEgean sea, And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee. Come down! the purple sail is spread, The watchman sleeps within the town, O leave thy lily-flowered bed, O Lady mine come down, come down! She will not come, I know her […]...
23. Sonnet: I said I splendidly loved you; it's not true I said I splendidly loved you; it’s not true. Such long swift tides stir not a land-locked sea. On gods or fools the high risk falls on you The clean clear bitter-sweet that’s not for me. Love soars from earth to ecstasies unwist. Love is flung Lucifer-like from Heaven to Hell. But there are wanderers […]...
24. Will there really be a "Morning"? Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they? Has it feet like Water lilies? Has it feathers like a Bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard? Oh some Scholar! Oh […]...
25. Swing high and swing low Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow – It’s off for a sailor thy father would go; And it’s here in the harbor, in sight of the sea, He hath left his wee babe with my song and with me: “Swing high and swing low While the breezes they blow!” Swing high […]...
26. Hate I had a bitter enemy, His heart to hate he gave, And when I died he swore that he Would dance upon my grave; That he would leap and laugh because A livid corpse was I, And that’s the reason why I was In no great haste to die. And then – such is the […]...
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. By the Spring, at Sunset Sometimes we remember kisses, Remember the dear heart-leap when they came: Not always, but sometimes we remember The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame Of laughter and farewell. Beside the road Afar from those who said “Good-by” I write, Far from my city task, my lawful load. Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder, […]...
29. Adventure Out of the wood my White Knight came: His eyes were bright with a bitter flame, As I clung to his stirrup leather; For I was only a dreaming lad, Yet oh, what a wonderful faith I had! And the song in my heart was never so glad, As we took to the trail together. […]...
30. The Passing Of The Year My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow; And snug before the fire I sit, And wait to feel the old year go. I dedicate to solemn thought Amid my too-unthinking days, This sober moment, sadly fraught With much of blame, with little praise. Old Year! upon the […]...
31. The One Before the Last I dreamt I was in love again With the One Before the Last, And smiled to greet the pleasant pain Of that innocent young past. But I jumped to feel how sharp had been The pain when it did live, How the faded dreams of Nineteen-ten Were Hell in Nineteen-five. The boy’s woe was as […]...
32. Lost Anchors Like a dry fish flung inland far from shore, There lived a sailor, warped and ocean-browned, Who told of an old vessel, harbor-drowned, And out of mind a century before, Where divers, on descending to explore A legend that had lived its way around The world of ships, in the dark hulk had found Anchors, […]...
33. The Deep-Sea Cables The wrecks dissolve above us; their dust drops down from afar Down to the dark, to the utter dark, where the blind white sea-snakes are. There is no sound, no echo of sound, in the deserts of the deep, Or the great gray level plains of ooze where the shell-burred cables creep. Here in the […]...
34. Young Munro the Sailor ‘Twas on a sunny morning in the month of May, I met a pretty damsel on the banks o’ the Tay; I said, My charming fair one, come tell to me I pray, Why do you walk alone on the banks o’ the Tay. She said, Kind sir, pity me, for I am in great […]...
35. Rhyme-Smith Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore – It’s only rhyme is astrolabe,” Whose meaning I ignore.) From cradlehood I lisped in numbers, Made jingles even in my slumbers. Said Ma: “He’ll be a bard, I know it.” Said Pa: “let’s hoe he will outgrow it.” Alas! I never […]...
36. The Virginity Try as he will, no man breaks wholly loose From his first love, no matter who she be. Oh, was there ever sailor free to choose, That didn’t settle somewhere near the sea? Myself, it don’t excite me nor amuse To watch a pack o’ shipping on the sea; But I can understand my neighbour’s […]...
37. MACTAVISH I do not write for love of pelf, Nor lust for phantom fame; I do not rhyme to please myself, Nor yet to win acclaim: No, strange to say it is my plan, What gifts I have, to lavish Upon a simple working man MACTAVISH. For that’s the rather smeary name, Of dreary toil a […]...
38. Visits To St. Elizabeths This is the house of Bedlam. This is the man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is the time Of the tragic man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is a wristwatch Telling the time Of the talkative man That lies in the house of Bedlam. This is a sailor Wearing […]...
39. The Song Of The Strange Ascetic If I had been a Heathen, I’d have praised the purple vine, My slaves should dig the vineyards, And I would drink the wine. But Higgins is a Heathen, And his slaves grow lean and grey, That he may drink some tepid milk Exactly twice a day. If I had been a Heathen, I’d have […]...
40. Into My Own One of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, as ’twere, the merest mask of gloom, But stretched away unto th eedge of doom. I should not be withheld but that some day Into their vastness I should steal away, Fearless of ever finding […]...