The Captive
Not with an outcry to Allah nor any complaining
He answered his name at the muster and stood to the chaining.
When the twin anklets were nipped on the leg-bars that held them,
He brotherly greeted the armourers stooping to weld them.
Ere the sad dust of the marshalled feet of the chain-gang swallowed him,
Observing him nobly at ease, I alighted and followed him,
Thus we had speech by the way, but not touching his sorrow
Rather his red Yesterday and his regal To-morrow,
Wherein he statelily moved to the clink of his chains unregarded,
Nowise abashed but contented to drink of the potion awarded
Saluting aloofly his Fate, he made haste with his story,
And the words of his mouth were as slaves spreading carpets of glory
Embroidered with names of the Djinns a miraculous weaving
But the cool and perspicuous eye overbore unbelieving.
So I submitted myself to the limits of rapture
Bound by this man we had bound, amid captives his capture
Till he returned me to earth and the visions departed.
But on him be the Peace and the Blessing; for he was greathearted!
Related poetry:
- The Captive Dove Poor restless dove, I pity thee; And when I hear thy plaintive moan, I mourn for thy captivity, And in thy woes forget mine own. To see thee stand prepared to fly, And flap those useless wings of thine, And gaze into the distant sky, Would melt a harder heart than mine. In vain […]...
- The Captive's Dream Methought I saw him but I knew him not; He was so changed from what he used to be, There was no redness on his woe-worn cheek, No sunny smile upon his ashy lips, His hollow wandering eyes looked wild and fierce, And grief was printed on his marble brow, And O I thought he […]...
- THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay, It chanced a bee did fly that way, After a dew, or dew-like shower, To tipple freely in a flower; For some rich flower, he took the lip Of Julia, and began to sip; But when he felt he suck’d from thence Honey, and in the quintessence, He drank so […]...
- 291. Song-The Captive Ribband DEAR Myra, the captive ribband’s mine, ‘Twas all my faithful love could gain; And would you ask me to resign The sole reward that crowns my pain? Go, bid the hero who has run Thro’ fields of death to gather fame, Go, bid him lay his laurels down, And all his well-earn’d praise disclaim. The […]...
- The Loom of Dreams I broider the world upon a loom, I broider with dreams my tapestry; Here in a little lonely room I am master of earth and sea, And the planets come to me. I broider my life into the frame, I broider my love, thread upon thread; The world goes by with its glory and shame, […]...
- Indian Weavers WEAVERS, weaving at break of day, Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . . Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild, We weave the robes of a new-born child. Weavers, weaving at fall of night, Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . . Like the plumes of a […]...
- At Burgos Miraculous silver-work in stone Against the blue miraculous skies, The belfry towers and turrets rise Out of the arches that enthrone That airy wonder of the skies. Softly against the burning sun The great cathedral spreads its wings; High up, the lyric belfry sings. Behold Ascension Day begun Under the shadow of those wings!...
- In Bondage I would be wandering in distant fields Where man, and bird, and beast, lives leisurely, And the old earth is kind, and ever yields Her goodly gifts to all her children free; Where life is fairer, lighter, less demanding, And boys and girls have time and space for play Before they come to years of […]...
- Looking-Glass River Smooth it glides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam O the clean gravel! O the smooth stream! Sailing blossoms, silver fishes, Pave pools as clear as air How a child wishes To live down there! We can see our colored faces Floating on the shaken pool Down in cool places, Dim and […]...
- During Wind And Rain They sing their dearest songs He, she, all of them yea, Treble and tenor and bass, And one to play; With the candles mooning each face…. Ah, no; the years O! How the sick leaves reel down in throngs! They clear the creeping moss Elders and juniors aye, Making the pathways neat And the garden […]...
- Words Be careful of words, Even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, Sometimes they swarm like insects And leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock You stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and […]...
- The Man Born to Farming The Grower of Trees, the gardener, the man born to farming, Whose hands reach into the ground and sprout To him the soil is a divine drug. He enters into death Yearly, and comes back rejoicing. He has seen the light lie down In the dung heap, and rise again in the corn. His thought […]...
- Ready to step into life This morning, coffee in hand, standing at the kitchen Window thinking of things that need to be done I contemplated the post with a lean at the front gate Which I should right one day – and wondered why; I like it that way, trying to take a first step, Embark on a journey perhaps, […]...
- Tor House If you should look for this place after a handful of lifetimes: Perhaps of my planted forest a few May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast cypress, haggard With storm-drift; but fire and the axe are devils. Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers had the art To make stone love stone, you […]...
- Rule Britannia When Britain first, at Heaven’s command, Arose from out the azure main; This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain: “Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves.” The nations, not so blest as thee, Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall: While thou shalt flourish great and […]...
- The Gardener LIX: O Woman O woman, you are not merely the Handiwork of God, but also of men; These are ever endowing you with Beauty from their hearts. Poets are weaving for you a web With threads of golden imagery; Painters are giving your form ever New immortality. The sea gives its pearls, the mines Their gold, the summer […]...
- Hymn 61 Christ our High Priest and King. Rev. 1:5-7. Now to the Lord, that makes us know The wonders of his dying love, Be humble honors paid below, And strains of nobler praise above. ‘Twas he that cleansed our foulest sins, And washed us in his richest blood; ‘Tis he that makes us priests and kings, […]...
- Sonnet to Lake Leman Rousseau Voltaire our Gibbon De Staлl Leman! these names are worthy of thy shore, Thy shore of names like these! wert thou no more, Their memory thy remembrance would recall: To them thy banks were lovely as to all, But they have made them lovelier, for the lore Of mighty minds doth hallow in the […]...
- The Wounded Bird In the wide bed Under the freen embroidered quilt With flowers and leaves always in soft motion She is like a wounded bird resting on a pool. The hunter threw his dart And hit her breast, Hit her but did not kill. “O my wings, lift me lift me! I am not dreadfully hurt!” Down […]...
- The impact of a dollar upon the heart The impact of a dollar upon the heart Smiles warm red light, Sweeping from the hearth rosily upon the white table, With the hanging cool velvet shadows Moving softly upon the door. The impact of a million dollars Is a crash of flunkeys, And yawning emblems of Persia Cheeked against oak, France and a sabre, […]...
- Filling Station Oh, but it is dirty! this little filling station, Oil-soaked, oil-permeated To a disturbing, over-all Black translucency. Be careful with that match! Father wears a dirty, Oil-soaked monkey suit That cuts him under the arms, And several quick and saucy And greasy sons assist him (it’s a family filling station), All quite thoroughly dirty. Do […]...
- The Naming Of Cats The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn’t just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily, Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or […]...
- Preface This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, dominion or power, except War. Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry. The subject of it is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry […]...
- First Child… Second Child FIRST Be it a girl, or one of the boys, It is scarlet all over its avoirdupois, It is red, it is boiled; could the obstetrician Have possibly been a lobstertrician? His degrees and credentials were hunky-dory, But how’s for an infantile inventory? Here’s the prodigy, here’s the miracle! Whether its head is oval or […]...
- Three Ghosts THREE tailors of Tooley Street wrote: We, the People. The names are forgotten. It is a joke in ghosts. Cutters or bushelmen or armhole basters, they sat Cross-legged stitching, snatched at scissors, stole each Other thimbles. Cross-legged, working for wages, joking each other As misfits cut from the cloth of a Master Tailor, They sat […]...
- A Pict Song Rome never looks where she treads. Always her heavy hooves fall On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads; And Rome never heeds when we bawl. Her sentries pass on that is all, And we gather behind them in hordes, And plot to reconquer the Wall, With only our tongues for our swords. We are […]...
- Darling Daughter of Babylon Too soon you wearied of our tears. And then you danced with spangled feet, Leading Belshazzar’s chattering court A-tinkling through the shadowy street. With mead they came, with chants of shame. DESIRE’S red flag before them flew. And Istar’s music moved your mouth And Baal’s deep shames rewoke in you. Now you could drive the […]...
- Reconciliation I BEGIN through the grass once again to be bound to the Lord; I can see, through a face that has faded, the face full of rest Of the earth, of the mother, my heart with her heart in accord, As I lie ‘mid the cool green tresses that mantle her breast I begin with […]...
- Just Thinking Got up on a cool morning. Leaned out a window. No cloud, no wind. Air that flowers held For awhile. Some dove somewhere. Been on probation most of my life. And The rest of my life been condemned. So these moments Count for a lot peace, you know. Let the bucket of memory down into […]...
- Evadne I first tasted under Apollo’s lips, Love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; My hair is made of crisp violets Or hyacinth which the wind combs back Across some rock shelf; I, Evadne, Was made of the god of light. His hair was crisp to my mouth, As the flower of the crocus, Across my cheek, […]...
- Hymn 159 An unconverted state; or, Converting grace. [Great King of glory and of grace, We own, with humble shame, How vile is our degen’rate race, And our first father’s name.] From Adam flows our tainted blood, The poison reigns within; Makes us averse to all that’s good, And willing slaves to sin. [Daily we break thy […]...
- Gargoyle I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile of melted red iron ran over it. Its laugh was full of nails rattling. It was a child’s dream of a mouth. A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of gun-metal driven by an electric wrist and shoulder. It was a child’s dream of an arm. The fist hit […]...
- Confessional There was wine in a cup of gold And a girl of fifteen from Wu, Her eyebrows painted dark And with slippers of red brocade. If her conversation was poor, How beautifully she could sing! Together we dined and drank Until she settled in my arms. Behind her curtains Embroidered with lotuses, How could I […]...
- The Unequal Fetters Cou’d we stop the time that’s flying Or recall itt when ’tis past Put far off the day of Dying Or make Youth for ever last To Love wou’d then be worth our cost. But since we must loose those Graces Which at first your hearts have wonne And you seek for in new Faces […]...
- Did you ever stand in a Cavern's Mouth Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s Mouth Widths out of the Sun And look and shudder, and block your breath And deem to be alone In such a place, what horror, How Goblin it would be And fly, as ’twere pursuing you? Then Loneliness looks so Did you ever look in a Cannon’s face […]...
- O Daedalus, Fly Away Home (For Maia and Julie) Drifting night in the Georgia pines, Coonskin drum and jubilee banjo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is juba, night is congo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is an African juju man Weaving a wish and a weariness together To make two wings. O fly away home fly away Do […]...
- A Musical Instrument What was he doing, the great god Pan, Down in the reeds by the river? Spreading ruin and scattering ban, Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, And breaking the golden lilies afloat With the dragon-fly on the river. He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep cool bed of […]...
- Cool Tombs WHEN Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs, he forgot the copperheads and the assassin… in the dust, in the cool tombs. And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street, cash and collateral turned ashes… in the dust, in the cool tombs. Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a […]...
- Randolph Of Roanoke O Mother Earth! upon thy lap Thy weary ones receiving, And o’er them, silent as a dream, Thy grassy mantle weaving, Fold softly in thy long embrace That heart so worn and broken, And cool its pulse of fire beneath Thy shadows old and oaken. Shut out from him the bitter word And serpent hiss […]...
- On Gray Eyes Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night, How sleekest Jett yields to the di’monds light, So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty. A morning mantl’d with a fleece of gray Laughs from her brow and shewes a spotlesse day: This di’mond-like doth not his lustre owe To […]...