Memorial Tablet

Related poetry:

1. Memorial Day For The War Dead Memorial day for the war dead. Add now The grief of all your losses to their grief, Even of a woman that has left you. Mix Sorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history, Which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourning On one day for easy, convenient memory. Oh, sweet world soaked, like bread, In sweet milk […]...
2. The Black Watch Memorial Ye Sons of Mars, it gives me great content To think there has been erected a handsome monument In memory of the Black Watch, which is magnificent to see, Where they first were embodied at Aberfeldy. And as a Highland regiment they are worthy of what has been done for them, Because a more courageous […]...
3. John Ericsson Day Memorial, 1918 INTO the gulf and the pit of the dark night, the cold night, there is a man goes into the dark and the cold and when he comes back to his people he brings fire in his hands and they remember him in the years afterward as the fire bringer-they remember or forget-the man whose […]...
4. Inscription 01 – For A Tablet At Godstow Nunnery Here Stranger rest thee! from the neighbouring towers Of Oxford, haply thou hast forced thy bark Up this strong stream, whose broken waters here Send pleasant murmurs to the listening sense: Rest thee beneath this hazel; its green boughs Afford a grateful shade, and to the eye Fair is its fruit: Stranger! the seemly fruit […]...
5. Inscription 07 – For A Tablet On The Banks Of A Stream Stranger! awhile upon this mossy bank Recline thee. If the Sun rides high, the breeze, That loves to ripple o’er the rivulet, Will play around thy brow, and the cool sound Of running waters soothe thee. Mark how clear It sparkles o’er the shallows, and behold Where o’er its surface wheels with restless speed Yon […]...
6. Memorial Day “Dulce et decorum est” The bugle echoes shrill and sweet, But not of war it sings to-day. The road is rhythmic with the feet Of men-at-arms who come to pray. The roses blossom white and red On tombs where weary soldiers lie; Flags wave above the honored dead And martial music cleaves the sky. Above […]...
7. Memorial To D. C (Vassar College, 1918) O, loveliest throat of all sweet throats, Where now no more the music is, With hands that wrote you little notes I write you little elegies!...
8. Memorial Your body was a sacred cell always, A jewel that grew dull in garish light, An opal which beneath my wondering gaze Gleamed rarely, softly throbbing in the night. I touched your flesh with reverential hands, For you were sweet and timid like a flower That blossoms out of barren tropic sands, Shedding its perfume […]...
9. At the Vietnam War Memorial Black granite stretches its harsh, tapering wings Up to pedestrian-level grass But sucks me down, here, at the intersection of names. I forgive, I must, though I wish something Could heal this wound in the earth. Behold, all theorists, the price of theory: Extreme unction by napalm and blood, Vets shipped home whole or in […]...
10. Memorial Verses Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron’s struggle cease. But one such death remain’d to come; The last poetic voice is dumb We stand to-day by Wordsworth’s tomb. When Byron’s eyes were shut in death, We bow’d our head and held our breath. He taught us little; but our soul Had felt […]...
11. The Shakespeare Memorial Lord Lilac thought it rather rotten That Shakespeare should be quite forgotten, And therefore got on a Committee With several chaps out of the City, And Shorter and Sir Herbert Tree, Lord Rothschild and Lord Rosebery, And F. C. G. and Comyn Carr Two dukes and a dramatic star, Also a clergy man now dead; […]...
12. This Moment, Yearning and Thoughtful THIS moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone, It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them, in Germany, Italy, France, Spain-or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India-talking other dialects; And it seems to me if […]...
13. Lying in me Lying in me, as though it were a white Stone in the depths of a well, is one Memory that I cannot, will not, fight: It is happiness, and it is pain. Anyone looking straight into my eyes Could not help seeing it, and could not fail To become thoughtful, more sad and quiet Than […]...
14. Joe Ramsbottom Joe Ramshottom rented a bit of a farm From its owner, Squire Goslett his name; And the Gosletts came over with William the First, And found Ramsbottoms here when they came. One day Joe were ploughing his three-acre field When the front of his plough hit a rock, And on closer inspection o’ t’ damage […]...
15. Ave Adonai [Dedicated to G. M. Marston] Pale as the night that pales In the dawn’s pearl-pure pavillion, I wait for thee, with my dove’s breast Shuddering, a god its bitter guest- Have I not gilded my nails And painted my lips with vermillion? Am I not wholly stript Of the deeds and thoughts that obscure thee? […]...
16. Clean Hands IT is something to face the sun and know you are free. To hold your head in the shafts of daylight slanting the earth And know your heart has kept a promise and the blood runs clean: It is something. To go one day of your life among all men with clean hands, Clean for […]...
17. An Old-Fashioned Garden Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day- Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons- Spreading the seeds in the old-fashioned way. Just in the old fashioned way, too, our quarrel Grew until, angrily, she set me free- Planting, indeed, bleeding hearts for the two of us,- Ordaining bachelor’s buttons for […]...
18. Love Lies Bleeding Love lies bleeding in the bed whereover Roses lean with smiling mouths or pleading: Earth lies laughing where the sun’s dart clove her: Love lies bleeding. Stately shine his purple plumes, exceeding Pride of princes: nor shall maid or lover Find on earth a fairer sign worth heeding. Yet may love, sore wounded scarce recover […]...
19. Survivors No doubt they’ll soon get well; the shock and strain Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk. Of course they’re ‘longing to go out again,’- These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk. They’ll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,- Their dreams that drip with murder; […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Cotton and Corn Said Cotton to Corn, t’other day, As they met and exchang’d salute (Squire Corn in his carriage so gay, Poor Cotton, half famish’d on foot): “Great Squire, if it isn’t uncivil To hint at starvation before you, Look down on a poor hungry devil, And give him some bread, I implore you!” Quoth Corn, then, […]...
22. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
23. The Kingfisher It was the Rainbow gave thee birth, And left thee all her lovely hues; And, as her mother’s name was Tears, So runs it in my blood to choose For haunts the lonely pools, and keep In company with trees that weep. Go you and, with such glorious hues, Live with proud peacocks in green […]...
24. The Home-Coming My boy’s come back; he’s here at last; He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache are past, My only son is back again. He’s home with music, flags and flowers; With peace and joy my heart’s abrim; He got here in the morning hours With half the town to welcome […]...
25. Do you Remember me? or are you Proud? “Do you remember me? or are you proud?” Lightly advancing thro’ her star-trimm’d crowd, Ianthe said, and lookt into my eyes, “A yes, a yes, to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise.”...
26. Ianthe's Question ‘Do you remember me? or are you proud? ’ Lightly advancing thro’ her star-trimm’d crowd, Ianthe said, and look’d into my eyes. ВЂ˜A yes, a yes to both: for Memory Where you but once have been must ever be, And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise. ’...
27. THE CONSECRATED SPOT WHEN in the dance of the Nymphs, in the moonlight so holy assembled, Mingle the Graces, down from Olympus in secret descending, Here doth the minstrel hide, and list to their numbers enthralling, Here doth he watch their silent dances’ mysterious measure. All that is glorious in Heaven, and all that the earth in her […]...
28. Dream Song 75: Turning it over, considering Turning it over, considering, like a madman Henry put forth a book. No harm resulted from this. Neither the menstruating stars (nor man) was moved At once. Bare dogs drew closer for a second look And performed their friendly operations there. Refreshed, the bark rejoiced. Seasons went and came. Leaves fell, but only a few. […]...
29. Friends Beyond WILLIAM Dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert’s kin, and John’s, and Ned’s, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now! “Gone,” I call them, gone for good, that group of local hearts and Heads; Yet at mothy curfew-tide, And at midnight when the noon-heat breathes it back from walls […]...
30. Nature the yellow legged plovers live at the university and stare down Pale students who dare to walk near them We like them They are the smartest things around with their brown caps and stiffish know-it-all walk God, don’t they look like the newly arrived so proud to be here, And busy, The plovers should have […]...
31. The Ballad Of The Northern Lights One of the Down and Out that’s me. Stare at me well, ay, stare! Stare and shrink say! you wouldn’t think that I was a millionaire. Look at my face, it’s crimped and gouged one of them death-mask things; Don’t seem the sort of man, do I, as might be the pal of kings? Slouching […]...
32. O Lord, I Will Praise Thee (Isaiah, xii.1) I will praise Thee every day Now Thine anger’s turn’d away; Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding sacrifice. Here, in the fair gospel-field, Wells of free salvation yield Stream of life, a plenteous store, And my soul shall thirst no more. Jesus is become at length My salvation and my strength; And His […]...
33. Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full […]...
34. Not marble nor the guilded monuments (Sonnet 55) Not marble nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme; But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone, besmear’d with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn The living […]...
35. Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Not marble, nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword, nor war’s quick fire shall burn The living […]...
36. A Suggestion As I go and shop, sir! If a car I stop, sir! Where you chance to sit, And you want to read, sir! Never mind or heed, sir! I’ll not care a bit. For it’s now aesthetic To be quite athletic. That’s our fad, you know. I can hold the strap, sir! And keep off […]...
37. Trickle, Drops TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving! O drops of me! trickle, slow drops, Candid, from me falling-drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison’d, From my face-from my forehead and lips, From my breast-from within where I was conceal’d-press forth, red drops-confession drops; Stain every page-stain every song I sing, […]...
38. Love Without Hope Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher Swept off his tall hat to the Squire’s own daughter, So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly Singing about her head, as she rode by....
39. To Psyche The longer I stare the lovelier You look in my eyes (so made such Mirrors and spies) and I’m not done Yet as I enumerate the virtues Of your smile, gracious in defeat, Victorious in love, your breasts And belly and below, the zone I’d Like to zone in on, your ankles Unshod, your brassiere […]...
40. In 200 B. C “Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians “ We can very well imagine That they were utterly indifferent in Sparta To this inscription. “Except the Lacedaemonians”, But naturally. The Spartans were not To be led and ordered about As precious servants. Besides A panhellenic campaign without A Spartan king as a leader […]...