Seven

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1. A Lyric Day I deem that there are lyric days So ripe with radiance and cheer, So rich with gratitude and praise That they enrapture all the year. And if there is a God babove, (As they would tell me in the Kirk,) How he must look with pride and love Upon his perfect handiwork! To-day has been […]...
2. Lord Let Me Live Lord, let me live, that more and more Your wonder world I may adore; With every dawn to grow and grow Alive to graciousness aglow; And every eve in beauty see Reason for rhapsody. Lord, let me bide, that I may prove The buoyant brightness of my love For sapphire sea and lyric sky And […]...
3. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
4. To My Enemy Let those who will of friendship sing, And to its guerdon grateful be, But I a lyric garland bring To crown thee, O, mine enemy! Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe For that my lifelong journey through Thine honest hate has done for me What love perchance had failed to do. I had not […]...
5. Giving Myself Up I give up my eyes which are glass eggs. I give up my tongue. I give up my mouth which is the contstant dream of my tongue. I give up my throat which is the sleeve of my voice. I give up my heart which is a burning apple. I give up my lungs which […]...
6. My Will I’ve made my Will. I don’t believe In luxury and wealth; And to those loving ones who grieve My age and frailing health I give the meed to soothe their ways That they may happy be, And pass serenely all their days In snug security. That duty done, I leave behind The all I have […]...
7. Fire This life that we call our own Is neither strong nor free; A flame in the wind of death, It trembles ceaselessly. And this all we can do To use our little light Before, in the piercing wind, It flickers into night: To yield the heat of the flame, To grudge not, but to give […]...
8. Hymn 129 Submission and deliverance; or, Abraham offering up his son. Gen. 22:6, etc. Saints, at your heav’nly Father’s word Give up your comforts to the Lord; He shall restore what you resign, Or grant you blessings more divine. So Abram with obedient hand Led forth his son at God’s command; The wood, the fire, the knife, […]...
9. Swan Song A bunch of old snakeheads down by the pond Carrying on the swan tradition hissing Inside their white bodies, raising and lowering their heads Like ostriches, regretting only the sad ritual That forced them to waddle back into the water After their life under the rocks, wishing they could lie again in the sun And […]...
10. An Argument I’ve oft been told by learned friars, That wishing and the crime are one, And Heaven punishes desires As much as if the deed were done. If wishing damns us, you and I Are damned to all our heart’s content; Come, then, at least we may enjoy Some pleasure for our punishment!...
11. Crying to be written Dawn has reached the ridges to the north and a thin Line of light chased the night west; it is the best Time of day for me – a cup of coffee, Benson & Scud Pretending to sleep in their baskets at my feet, I am seated, ready to write knowing the lounge fire Is […]...
12. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
13. Death My body, eh? Friend Death, how now? Why all this tedious pomp of writ? Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow For half a century bit by bit. In faith thou knowest more to-day Than I do, where it can be found! This shrivelled lump of suffering clay, To which I am now chained and […]...
14. The Heritage Cry out on Time that he may take away Your cold philosophies that give no hint Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall down and pray That Death come never with a face of flint: Death is our heritage; with Life we share The sunlight that must own his darkening hour: Within his very presence yet we dare […]...
15. Child Margaret THE CHILD Margaret begins to write numbers on a Saturday morning, the first numbers formed under her wishing child fingers. All the numbers come well-born, shaped in figures assertive for a frieze in a child’s room. Both 1 and 7 are straightforward, military, filled with lunge and attack, erect in shoulder-straps. The 6 and 9 […]...
16. The Under-Dogs What have we done, Oh Lord, that we Are evil starred? How have we erred and sinned to be So scourged and scarred? Lash us, Oh Lord, with scorpion whips, We can but run; But harken to our piteous lips: What have we done? How have we sinned to rouse your wrath, To earn your […]...
17. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
18. A Parting Guest What delightful hosts are they Life and Love! Lingeringly I turn away, This late hour, yet glad enough They have not withheld from me Their high hospitality. So, with face lit with delight And all gratitude, I stay Yet to press their hands and say, “Thanks. So fine a time! Good night.”...
19. The Oblation Ask nothing more of me, sweet; All I can give you I give. Heart of my heart, were it more, More would be laid at your feet: Love that should help you to live, Song that should spur you to soar. All things were nothing to give Once to have sense of you more, Touch […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Work When twenty-one I loved to dream, And was to loafing well inclined; Somehow I couldn’t get up steam To welcome work of any kind. While students burned the midnight lamp, With dour ambition as their goad, I longed to be a gayful tramp And greet adventure on the road. But now that sixty years have […]...
22. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
23. Psalm 100 A plain translation. Praise to our Creator. Ye nations round the earth, rejoice Before the Lord, your sovereign King; Serve him with cheerful heart and voice, With all your tongues his glory sing. The Lord is God; ’tis he alone Doth life, and breath, and being give; We are his work, and not our own, […]...
24. The Defeated Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great Unto the skies, Deem not ’twill ope’ the gate Of Paradise. Though you have gold and gear And fame and power, What odds when you draw near The Judgement Hour? But if […]...
25. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
26. The Alcázar The General now lives in town; He’s eighty odd, they say; You’ll see him strolling up and down The Prada any day. He goes to every football game, The bull-ring knows his voice, And when the people cheer his name Moscardo must rejoice. Yet does he, in the gaiety Of opera and ball, A dingy […]...
27. The Missal Makers To visit the Escurial We took a motor bus, And there a guide mercurial Took charge of us. He showed us through room after room, And talked hour after hour, Of place, crypt and royal tomb, Of pomp and power. But in bewilderment of grace What pleased me most of all Were ancient missals proud […]...
28. Death Of A Cockroach I opened wide the bath-room door, And all at once switched on the light, When moving swift across the floor I saw a streak of ebon bright: Then quick, with slipper in my hand, Before it could escape, I slammed. I missed it once, I missed it twice, But got it ere it gained its […]...
29. The Passing Strange Out of the earth to rest or range Perpetual in perpetual change, The unknown passing through the strange. Water and saltness held together To tread the dust and stand the weather, And plough the field and stretch the tether, To pass the wine-cup and be witty, Water the sands and build the city, Slaughter like […]...
30. My Hour Day after day behold me plying My pen within an office drear; The dullest dog, till homeward hieing, Then lo! I reign a king of cheer. A throne have I of padded leather, A little court of kiddies three, A wife who smiles whate’er the weather, A feast of muffins, jam and tea. The table […]...
31. So Let Us Love Most glorious Lord of life! that on this day Didst make thy triumph over death and sin, And having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win: This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin; And grant that we, for whom Thou diddest die, Being, with thy dear blood, clean washed from […]...
32. The Weaver of Souls WHO is this unseen messenger For ever between me and her, Who brings love’s precious merchandise, The golden breath, the dew of sighs, And the wild, gentle thoughts that dwell Too fragile for the lips to tell, Each at their birth, to us before A heaving of the heart is o’er? Who art thou, unseen […]...
33. Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day, Didst make thy triumph over death and sin: And having harrow’d hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win: This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin, And grant that we for whom thou diddest die, Being with thy dear blood clean wash’d from […]...
34. Gacela of the Dark Death I want to sleep the dream of the apples, To withdraw from the tumult of cemetries. I want to sleep the dream of that child Who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas. I don’t want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood, That the putrid mouth goes on […]...
35. Verses Turned Across the wet November night The church is bright with candlelight And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strokes Pleads louder than the stirring oaks The leafless lanes along. It calls the hoirboys from their tea And villagers, the two or three, Damp down the kitchen fire, Let out the cat, and up the […]...
36. The Pilgrims Who is your lady of love, O ye that pass Singing? and is it for sorrow of that which was That ye sing sadly, or dream of what shall be? For gladly at once and sadly it seems ye sing. Our lady of love by you is unbeholden; For hands she hath none, nor eyes, […]...
37. Evenfall When day is done I steal away To fold my hands in rest, And of my hours this moment grey I love the best; So quietly I sit alone And wait for evenfall, When in the dusk doves sweetly moan And crickets call. With heart of humble gratitude How it is good to bide, And […]...
38. The Actor Enthusiastic was the crowd That hailed him with delight; The wine was bright, the laughter loud And glorious the night. But when at dawn he drove away With echo of their cheer, To where his little daughter lay, Then he knew Fear. How strangely still the house! He crept On tip-toe to the bed; And […]...
39. Thirst My spirit wails for water, water now! My tongue is aching dry, my throat is hot For water, fresh rain shaken from a bough, Or dawn dews heavy in some leafy spot. My hungry body’s burning for a swim In sunlit water where the air is cool, As in Trout Valley where upon a limb […]...
40. It came his turn to beg It came his turn to beg The begging for the life Is different from another Alms ‘Tis Penury in Chief I scanned his narrow realm I gave him leave to live Lest Gratitude revive the snake Though smuggled his reprieve...