The Royal Tombs Of Golconda

Related poetry:

1. The Quesion Brethren, how shall it fare with me When the war is laid aside, If it be proven that I am he For whom a world has died? If it be proven that all my good, And the greater good I will make, Were purchased me by a multitude Who suffered for my sake? That I […]...
2. You Remain As a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me; all things leave me – You remain. Other thoughts may come and go, Other moments I may know That shall waft me, in their going, As a breath […]...
3. Sestina Of The Tramp-Royal Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world. Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good For such as cannot use one bed too long, But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done, An’ go observin’ matters till they die. What do it matter where or ‘ow […]...
4. Lines Draw a line. Write a line. There. Stay in line, hold the line, a glance Between the lines is fine but don’t Turn corners, cross, cut in, go over Or out, between two points of no Return’s a line of flight, between Two points of view’s a line of vision. But a line of thought […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. 235. Song-The Fall of the Leaf THE LAZY mist hangs from the brow of the hill, Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill; How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear! As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year. The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, And all the gay foppery of summer is flown: Apart let me wander, apart […]...
7. 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, […]...
8. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW Since to the country first I came, I have lost my former flame; And, methinks, I not inherit, As I did, my ravish’d spirit. If I write a verse or two, ‘Tis with very much ado; In regard I want that wine Which should conjure up a line. Yet, though now of Muse bereft, I […]...
9. To Jennie Good-bye! a kind good-bye, I bid you now, my friend, And though ’tis sad to speak the word, To destiny I bend And though it be decreed by Fate That we ne’er meet again, Your image, graven on my heart, Forever shall remain. Aye, in my heart thoult have a place, Among the friends held […]...
10. ROYAL PRAYER HA, I am the lord of earth! The noble, Who’re in my service, love me. Ha, I am the lord of earth! The noble, O’er whom my sway extendeth, love I. Oh, grant me, God in Heaven, that I may ne’er Dispense with loftiness and love! 1815.*...
11. On The Loss Of The Royal George Written when the news arrived. Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore. Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; […]...
12. The Royal Review All hail to the Empress of India, Great Britain’s Queen Long may she live in health, happy and serene That came from London, far away, To review the Scottish Volunteers in grand array: Most magnificent to be seen, Near by Salisbury Crags and its pastures green, Which will long be remembered by our gracious Queen […]...
13. Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel Light spreads darkly downwards from the high Clusters of lights over empty chairs That face each other, coloured differently. Through open doors, the dining-room declares A larger loneliness of knives and glass And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads An unsold evening paper. Hours pass, And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds, […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow through the Groves a wand’ring Muse And fain’d Idea’s for my pleasures chuse Why shou’d it in my Pen be held a fault Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought Whilst Lamia to […]...
16. Other Having begun in thought there In that factual embodied wonder What was lost in the emptied lovers Patience and mind I first felt there Wondered again and again what for Myself so meager and finally singular Despite all issued therefrom whether Sister or mother or brother and father Come to love’s emptied place too late […]...
17. Hymn 38 Love to God. Happy the heart where graces reign, Where love inspires the breast; Love is the brightest of the train, And strengthens all the rest. Knowledge, alas! ’tis all in vain, And all in vain our fear; Our stubborn sins will fight and reign, If love be absent there. ‘Tis love that makes our […]...
18. Thoughts Of Phena at news of her death Not a line of her writing have I Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize At her close, whom I knew […]...
19. Thought Of Ph – a At News Of Her Death NOT a line of her writing have I, Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize At her close, whom I knew when her dreams were upbrimming […]...
20. Prelude They say that rhyme and rhythm are Outmoded now. I do not know, for I am far From high of brow. But if the twain you take away, Since basely bred, Proud Poetry, I dare to say, Would scarce be read. With humble heart I thus define My rôle in rhyme: Oh may I never […]...
21. 531. Song-'Twas na her bonie blue e'e ‘TWAS na her bonie blue e’e was my ruin, Fair tho’ she be, that was ne’er my undoin’; ‘Twas the dear smile when nae body did mind us, ‘Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness: ‘Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o’ kindness. Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, Sair […]...
22. 233. Song-O were I on Parnassus Hill O, WERE I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee! But Nith maun be my Muse’s well, My Muse maun be thy bonie sel’, On Corsincon I’ll glowr and spell, And write how dear I love thee. Then come, sweet […]...
23. To the President of Magdalen College, Oxford Since now from woodland mist and flooded clay I am fled beside the steep Devonian shore, Nor stand for welcome at your gothic door, ‘Neath the fair tower of Magdalen and May, Such tribute, Warren, as fond poets pay For generous esteem, I write, not more Enhearten’d than my need is, reckoning o’er My life-long […]...
24. Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent How can my Muse want subject to invent While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verse Thine own sweet argument, too excellent For every vulgar paper to rehearse? O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me Worthy perusal stand against thy sight, For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee, When thou […]...
25. Villanelle of Change Since Persia fell at Marathon, The yellow years have gathered fast: Long centuries have come and gone. And yet (they say) the place will don A phantom fury of the past, Since Persia fell at Marathon; And as of old, when Helicon Trembled and swayed with rapture vast (Long centuries have come and gone), This […]...
26. To Clementina Black More blest than was of old Diogenes, I have not held my lantern up in vain. Not mine, at least, this evil to complain: “There is none honest among all of these.” Our hopes go down that sailed before the breeze; Our creeds upon the rock are rent in twain; Something it is, if at […]...
27. Modesties Words as plain as hen-birds’ wings Do not lie, Do not over-broider things – Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like pence Through each reign, Wear down to their simplest sense Yet remain. Weeds are not supposed to grow But by degrees Some achieve a flower, although No one sees....
28. 'Tis Seasons since the Dimpled War ‘Tis Seasons since the Dimpled War In which we each were Conqueror And each of us were slain And Centuries ’twill be and more Another Massacre before So modest and so vain Without a Formula we fought Each was to each the Pink Redoubt...
29. Hymn 13 The Son of God incarnate. Isa. 9:2,6,7. The lands that long in darkness lay Now have beheld a heav’nly light; Nations that sat in death’s cold shade Are blessed with beams divinely bright. The virgin’s promised Son is born, Behold th’ expected child appear: What shall his names or titles be? “The Wonderful, the Counsellor.” […]...
30. The Way My love’s manners in bed Are not to be discussed by me, As mine by her I would not credit comment upon gracefully. Yet I ride by the margin of that lake in The wood, the castle, And the excitement of strongholds; And have a small boy’s notion of doing good. Oh well, I will […]...
31. An Address to the Rev. George Gilfillan All hail to the Rev. George Gilfillan of Dundee, He is the greatest preacher I did ever hear or see. He is a man of genius bright, And in him his congregation does delight, Because they find him to be honest and plain, Affable in temper, and seldom known to complain. He preaches in a […]...
32. To Caroline Think’st thou I saw thy beauteous eyes, Suffus’d in tears, implore to stay; And heard unmov’d thy plenteous sighs, Which said far more than words can say? Though keen the grief thy tears exprest, When love and hope lay both o’erthrown; Yet still, my girl, this bleeding breast Throbb’d, with deep sorrow, as thine own. […]...
33. Crazy Jane On God That lover of a night Came when he would, Went in the dawning light Whether I would or no; Men come, men go; All things remain in God. Banners choke the sky; Men-at-arms tread; Armoured horses neigh In the narrow pass: All things remain in God. Before their eyes a house That from childhood stood […]...
34. Rain Has Fallen All the Day Rain has fallen all the day. O come among the laden trees: The leaves lie thick upon the way Of memories. Staying a little by the way Of memories shall we depart. Come, my beloved, where I may Speak to your heart....
35. There is a Zone whose even Years There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease And Consciousness is Noon....
36. 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 […]...
37. Magpiety The same and not quite the same, I walked through oak forests Amazed that my Muse, Mnemosyne, Has in no way diminished my amazement. A magpie was screeching and I said: Magpiety? What is magpiety? I shall never achieve A magpie heart, a hairy nostril over the beak, a flight That always renews just when […]...
38. It Is Later Than You Think Lone amid the cafe’s cheer, Sad of heart am I to-night; Dolefully I drink my beer, But no single line I write. There’s the wretched rent to pay, Yet I glower at pen and ink: Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray, It is later than you think! Hello! there’s a pregnant phrase. Bravo! let me […]...
39. Constancy To An Ideal Object Since all, that beat about in Nature’s range, Or veer or vanish ; why should’st thou remain The only constant in a world of change, O yearning THOUGHT! that liv’st but in the brain? Call to the HOURS, that in the distance play, The faery people of the future day Fond THOUGHT! not one of […]...
40. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...