Goddess In The Wood, The

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1. His voice decrepit was with Joy His voice decrepit was with Joy Her words did totter so How old the News of Love must be To make Lips elderly That purled a moment since with Glee Is it Delight or Woe Or Terror that do decorate This livid interview...
2. MY GODDESS SAY, which Immortal Merits the highest reward? With none contend I, But I will give it To the aye-changing, Ever-moving Wondrous daughter of Jove. His best-beloved offspring. Sweet Phantasy. For unto her Hath he granted All the fancies which erst To none allow’d he Saving himself; Now he takes his pleasure In the mad one. […]...
3. The Captured Goddess Over the housetops, Above the rotating chimney-pots, I have seen a shiver of amethyst, And blue and cinnamon have flickered A moment, At the far end of a dusty street. Through sheeted rain Has come a lustre of crimson, And I have watched moonbeams Hushed by a film of palest green. It was her wings, […]...
4. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
5. To the Unknown Goddess Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar? Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar? Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind? Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind? […]...
6. A Japanese Wood-Carving High up above the open, welcoming door It hangs, a piece of wood with colours dim. Once, long ago, it was a waving tree And knew the sun and shadow through the leaves Of forest trees, in a thick eastern wood. The winter snows had bent its branches down, The spring had swelled its buds […]...
7. The Wood BUT two miles more, and then we rest! Well, there is still an hour of day, And long the brightness of the West Will light us on our devious way; Sit then, awhile, here in this wood­ So total is the solitude, We safely may delay. These massive roots afford a seat, Which seems for […]...
8. The Wood Pool Here is a voice that soundeth low and far And lyric­voice of wind among the pines, Where the untroubled, glimmering waters are, And sunlight seldom shines. Elusive shadows linger shyly here, And wood-flowers blow, like pale, sweet spirit-bloom, And white, slim birches whisper, mirrored clear In the pool’s lucent gloom. Here Pan might pipe, or […]...
9. The Gardener XXXVIII: My Love, Once upon a Time My love, once upon a time your poet Launched a great epic in his mind. Alas, I was not careful, and it struck Your ringing anklets and came to Grief. It broke up into scraps of songs and Lay scattered at your feet. All my cargo of the stories of old Wars was tossed by […]...
10. Hatteras Calling Southeast, and storm, and every weathervane Shivers and moans upon its dripping pin, Ragged on chimneys the cloud whips, the rain Howls at the flues and windows to get in, The golden rooster claps his golden wings And from the Baptist Chapel shrieks no more, The golden arrow in the southeast sings And hears on […]...
11. Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead […]...
12. The Fiddling Wood Gods, what a black, fierce day! The clouds were iron, Wrenched to strange, rugged shapes; the red sun winked Over the rough crest of the hairy wood In angry scorn; the grey road twisted, kinked, Like a sick serpent, seeming to environ The trees with magic. All the wood was still Cracked, crannied pines bent […]...
13. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
14. The Ragged Wood O hurry where by water among the trees The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh, When they have but looked upon their images – Would none had ever loved but you and I! Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky, When the sun looked out of his golden hood? […]...
15. Sex Goddess I am THE SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE So don’t mess with me I’ve got a big bag full of SEX TOYS And you can’t have any ’cause they’re all mine ’cause I’m The SEX GODDESS OF THE WESTERN HEMISPHERE. “Hey,” you may say to yourself, “who the hell’s she tryin’ to kid, She’s […]...
16. Ode to the Goddess Ceres Dear Goddess of Corn, whom the ancients we know, (Among other odd whims of those comical bodies,) Adorn’d with somniferous poppies, to show, Thou wert always a true Country-gentleman’s Goddess. Behold in his best, shooting-jacket, before thee, An eloquent ‘Squire, who most humbly beseeches, Great Queen of the Mark-lane (if the thing doesn’t bore thee), […]...
17. Who Goes Amid the Green Wood Who goes amid the green wood With springtide all adorning her? Who goes amid the merry green wood To make it merrier? Who passes in the sunlight By ways that know the light footfall? Who passes in the sweet sunlight With mien so virginal? The ways of all the woodland Gleam with a soft and […]...
18. At Castle Wood The day is done, the winter sun Is setting in its sullen sky; And drear the course that has been run, And dim the hearts that slowly die. No star will light my coming night; No morn of hope for me will shine; I mourn not heaven would blast my sight, And I ne’er longed […]...
19. My Piney Wood I have a tiny piney wood; My trees are only fifty, Yet give me shade and solitude For they are thick and thrifty. And every day to me they fling With largess undenying, Fat cones to make my kettle sing And keep my pan a-frying. Go buy yourself a piney wood If you have gold […]...
20. Burning Drift-Wood Before my drift-wood fire I sit, And see, with every waif I burn, Old dreams and fancies coloring it, And folly’s unlaid ghosts return. O ships of mine, whose swift keels cleft The enchanted sea on which they sailed, Are these poor fragments only left Of vain desires and hopes that failed? Did I not […]...
21. An English Wood This valley wood is pledged To the set shape of things, And reasonably hedged: Here are no harpies fledged, No rocs may clap their wings, Nor gryphons wave their stings. Here, poised in quietude, Calm elementals brood On the set shape of things: They fend away alarms From this green wood. Here nothing is that […]...
22. Sekhmet, the Lion-headed Goddess of War He was the sort of man Who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Many flies are now alive While he is not. He was not my patron. He preferred full granaries, I battle. My roar meant slaughter. Yet here we are together In the same museum. That’s not what I see, though, the fitful Crowds of staring […]...
23. The Fire of Drift-wood DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR MARBLEHEAD. We sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o’er the bay, Gave to the sea-breeze damp and cold, An easy entrance, night and day. Not far away we saw the port, The strange, old-fashioned, silent town, The lighthouse, the dismantled fort, The wooden houses, quaint and brown. We sat and […]...
24. A Dream I dreamed that I ws dead and crossed the heavens, Heavens after heavens with burning feet and swift, And cried: “O God, where art Thou?” I left one On earth, whose burden I would pray Thee lift.” I was so dead I wondered at no thing, Not even that the angels slowly turned Their faces, […]...
25. Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Call Out of the nothingness of sleep, The slow dreams of Eternity, There was a thunder on the deep: I came, because you called to me. I broke the Night’s primeval bars, I dared the old abysmal curse, And flashed through ranks of frightened stars Suddenly on the universe! The eternal silences were broken; Hell became […]...
28. Letter to S. S. from Mametz Wood I never dreamed we’d meet that day In our old haunts down Fricourt way, Plotting such marvellous journeys there For jolly old “Aprиs-la-guerre.” Well, when it’s over, first we’ll meet At Gweithdy Bach, my country seat In Wales, a curious little shop With two rooms and a roof on top, A sort of Morlancourt-ish billet […]...
29. Her Vision In The Wood Dry timber under that rich foliage, At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood, Too old for a man’s love I stood in rage Imagining men. Imagining that I could A greater with a lesser pang assuage Or but to find if withered vein ran blood, I tore my body that its wine might cover Whatever […]...
30. False Notions, Fears, And Other Things Of Wood Repeatedly, that sturdy stump in me Bears up like stone, Beneath some ritual I see: The blinding axe Swings up, holds, That moment of its weightlessness Inscrutable Till I confirm the arm is mine; I will it, grip, Feel moist the swelling handle, The shudder rude, The difference fallen. Toward that chopping block I carry […]...
31. A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
32. The Wood-Cutter The sky is like an envelope, One of those blue official things; And, sealing it, to mock our hope, The moon, a silver wafer, clings. What shall we find when death gives leave To read our sentence or reprieve? I’m holding it down on God’s scrap-pile, up on the fag-end of earth; O’er me a […]...
33. Fame's Penny-Trumpet Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back – Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! Fill all the air with hungry wails – “Reward us, ere we think or write! Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails To sate the swinish appetite!” And, where great […]...
34. Romulus and Remus Oh, little did the Wolf-Child care When first he planned his home, What City should arise and bear The weight and state of Rome. A shiftless, westward-wandering tramp, Checked by the Tiber flood, He reared a wall around his camp Of uninspired mud. But when his brother leaped the Wall And mocked its height and […]...
35. The Singing-Woman From The Wood's Edge What should I be but a prophet and a liar, Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar? Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water, What should I be but the fiend’s god-daughter? And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog, That was got beneath a furze-bush and […]...
36. The Child of Destiny THIS is the hero-heart of the enchanted isle, Whom now the twilight children tenderly enfold, Pat with their pearly palms and crown with elfin gold, While in the mountain’s breast his brothers watch and smile. Who now of Dana’s host may guide these dancing feet? What bright immortal hides and through a child’s light breath […]...
37. Adonis 1. Each of us like you Has died once, Has passed through drift of wood-leaves, Cracked and bent And tortured and unbent In the winter-frost, The burnt into gold points, Lighted afresh, Crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf, Gold turned and re-welded In the sun; Each of us like you Has died once, Each of us […]...
38. The Mantra-Yoga I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? That long sad monotone – the same – the same – Matching the mute insatiable sea That throbs with life’s bewitching agony, Too long to measure and too fierce to tame! An hurtful joy, a […]...
39. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
40. To E I have remembered beauty in the night, Against black silences I waked to see A shower of sunlight over Italy And green Ravello dreaming on her height; I have remembered music in the dark, The clean swift brightness of a fugue of Bach’s, And running water singing on the rocks When once in English woods […]...