Treat 'Em Rough

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1. Wind was Rough which Tore, The The wind was rough which tore That leaf from its parent tree The fate was cruel which bore The withering corpse to me We wander on we have no rest It is a dreary way What shadow is it That ever moves before [my] eyes It has a brow of ghostly whiteness...
2. 135. Epigram on Rough Roads I’M now arrived-thanks to the gods!- Thro’ pathways rough and muddy, A certain sign that makin roads Is no this people’s study: Altho’ Im not wi’ Scripture cram’d, I’m sure the Bible says That heedless sinners shall be damn’d, Unless they mend their ways....
3. The Funeral of the Late Ex-Provost Rough, Dundee ‘Twas in the year of 1888, and on the 19th of November, Which the friends of the late Ex-Provost Rough will long remember, Because ’twas on the 19th of November his soul took its flight To the happy land above, the land of pure delight. Take him for all in all, he was a very […]...
4. Preamble (A Rough Draft For An Ars Poetica) …Preamble A rough draft For an ars poetica . . . . . . . Let’s get our dreams unstuck The grain of rye Free from the prattle of grass Et loin de arbres orateurs I Plant It It will sprout But forget about The rustic festivities For the explosive word Falls harmlessly Eternal through […]...
5. The Blackbirds Are Rough Today lonely as a dry and used orchard Spread over the earth For use and surrender. Shot down like an ex-pug selling Dailies on the corner. Taken by tears like An aging chorus girl Who has gotten her last check. A hanky is in order your lord your Worship. The blackbirds are rough today Like Ingrown […]...
6. Virginity My mother she had children five and four are dead and gone; While I, least worthy to survive, persist in living on. She looks at me, I must confess, sometimes with spite and bitterness. My mother is three-score and ten, while I am forty-three, You don’t know how it hurts me when we go somewhere […]...
7. OPEN TABLE MANY a guest I’d see to-day, Met to taste my dishes! Food in plenty is prepar’d, Birds, and game, and fishes. Invitations all have had, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Pretty girls I hope to see, Dear and guileless misses, Ignorant how sweet it is Giving tender kisses. […]...
8. 400. Song-Lovely young Jessie TRUE hearted was he, the sad swain o’ the Yarrow, And fair are the maids on the banks of the Ayr; But by the sweet side o’ the Nith’s winding river, Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair: To equal young JESSIE seek Scotland all over; To equal young JESSIE you seek it in […]...
9. The Boola-Boola Maid In the wilds of Madagascar, Dwelt a Boola-boola maid; For her hand young men would ask her, But she always was afraid. Oh that Boola-boola maid She was living in the shade Of a spreading Yum-yum tree; And – when the day was done At the setting of the sun, She would make this melodee: […]...
10. THE CRUEL MAID AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I’ll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever; […]...
11. 'Tis Sunrise Little Maid Hast Thou ‘Tis Sunrise Little Maid Hast Thou No Station in the Day? ‘Twas not thy wont, to hinder so Retrieve thine industry ‘Tis Noon My little Maid Alas and art thou sleeping yet? The Lily waiting to be Wed The Bee Hast thou forgot? My little Maid ‘Tis Night Alas That Night should be to thee […]...
12. The Gift “He gave her class. She gave him sex.” Katharine Hepburn on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers He gave her money. She gave him head. He gave her tips on “aggressive growth” mutual funds. She gave him a red rose and a little statue of eros. He gave her Genesis 2 (21-23). She gave him Genesis […]...
13. Highland Hospitality Unto his housemaid spoke the Laird: “Tonight the Bishop is our guest; The spare room must be warmed and aired: To please him we will do our best. A worthy haggis you must make, And serve a bowl of barley bree; We must be hearty for the sake Of Highland Hospitality. The feast was set, […]...
14. THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE My neighbour, none can e’er deny, Is a most beauteous maid; Her shop is ever in mine eye, When working at my trade. To ring and chain I hammer then The wire of gold assay’d, And think the while: “For Kate, oh when Will such a ring be made?” And when she takes her shutters […]...
15. The Faded Bouquet FAIR was this blushing ROSE of May, And fresh it hail’d morn’s breezy hour, When ev’ry spangled leaf look’d gay, Besprinkled with the twilight show’r; When to its mossy buds so sweet, The BUTTERFLY enamour’d flew, And hov’ring o’er the fragrant treat, Oft bath’d its silken wings in dew. SWEET was this PRIMROSE of the […]...
16. Flowers I will not have the mad Clytie, Whose head is turned by the sun; The tulip is a courtly queen, Whom, therefore, I will shun; The cowslip is a country wench, The violet is a nun; – But I will woo the dainty rose, The queen of everyone. The pea is but a wanton witch, […]...
17. The Long-Nosed Fair Once on a time I fair Dorinda kiss’d, Whose nose was too distinguish’d to be miss’d; My dear, says I, I fain would kiss you closer, But tho’ your lips say aye your nose says, no, Sir. The maid was equally to fun inclin’d, And plac’d her lovely lily-hand behind; Here, swain, she cry’d, may’st […]...
18. The Comforter As I sat by my baby’s bed That’s open to the sky, There fluttered round and round my head A radiant butterfly. And as I wept of hearts that ache The saddest in the land It left a lily for my sake, And lighted on my hand. I watched it, oh, so quietly, And though […]...
19. My Vision Wherever my feet may wander Wherever I chance to be, There comes, with the coming of even’ time A vision sweet to me. I see my mother sitting In the old familiar place, And she rocks to the tune her needles sing, And thinks of an absent face. I can hear the roar of the […]...
20. Epitaph The first time I died, I walked my ways; I followed the file of limping days. I held me tall, with my head flung up, But I dared not look on the new moon’s cup. I dared not look on the sweet young rain, And between my ribs was a gleaming pain. The next time […]...
21. Morning The mist has left the greening plain, The dew-drops shine like fairy rain, The coquette rose awakes again Her lovely self adorning. The Wind is hiding in the trees, A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, Until the rose says “Kiss me, please,” ‘Tis morning, ’tis morning. With staff in hand and careless-free, The wanderer fares right […]...
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. Decadence Before the florid portico I watched the gamblers come and go, While by me on a bench there sat A female in a faded hat; A shabby, shrinking, crumpled creature, Of waxy casino-ward with eyes Of lost soul seeking paradise. Then from the Café de la Paix There shambled forth a waiter fellow, Clad dingily, […]...
24. Chamfort THERE’S Chamfort. He’s a sample. Locked himself in his library with a gun, Shot off his nose and shot out his right eye. And this Chamfort knew how to write And thousands read his books on how to live, But he himself didn’t know How to die by force of his own hand see? They […]...
25. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
26. The White Birds I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee; And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness […]...
27. THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL You have beheld a smiling rose When virgins’ hands have drawn O’er it a cobweb-lawn: And here, you see, this lily shows, Tomb’d in a crystal stone, More fair in this transparent case Than when it grew alone, And had but single grace. You see how cream but naked is, Nor dances in the eye […]...
28. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
29. Young Sea The sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting. The sea speaks And only the stormy hearts Know what it says: It is the face of a rough mother speaking. The sea is young. One storm cleans all the hoar And loosens the age of it. I hear […]...
30. To Earthward Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air That crossed me from sweet things, The scent of was it musk From hidden grapevine springs Down hill at dusk? I had the swirl and ache From sprays of honeysuckle That when they’re […]...
31. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
32. Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song II Thistledown in prison sings: Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air; Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair. But, deep in the dark, cold rock, Sadly I dwell, Longing for thee, dear friend, Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell! Lily-Bell replies: Through sunlight and summer air I have sought for thee long, Guided by birds […]...
33. The Lily Night after night Darkness Enters the face Of the lily Which, lightly, Closes its five walls Around itself, And its purse Of honey, And its fragrance, And is content To stand there In the garden, Not quite sleeping, And, maybe, Saying in lily language Some small words We can’t hear Even when there is no […]...
34. Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his foes, But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze. Where once he swung the sword of wrath And peoples trembled at his word, With hoe he trims a pansied path And listens to a bird. His large of […]...
35. Poor Kid Mumsie and Dad are raven dark And I am lily blonde. ”Tis strange,’ I once heard nurse remark, ‘You do not correspond.’ And yet they claim me as their own, Born of their flesh and bone. To doubt their parenthood I dread, But now to girlhood grown, The thought is haunting in my head That […]...
36. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
37. Eve Look how she stands, high on the steep facade Of the cathedral, near the window-rose, Simply, holding in her hand the apple, Judged for all time as the guiltless-guilty For the growing fruit her body held Which she gave birth to after parting from The circle of eternities. She left To face the strange New […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. Lady Clare IT was the time when lilies blow, And clouds are highest up in air, Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe To give his cousin, Lady Clare. I trow they did not part in scorn – Lovers long-betroth’d were they: They too will wed the morrow morn: God’s blessing on the day! ‘He does not love […]...
40. 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 […]...