Night-Piece

Related poetry:

1. Night Piece Climb, claim your shelf-room, far Packed from inquisitive moon And cold contagious stars. Lean out, but look no longer, No further, than to stir Night with extended finger. Now fill the box with light, Flood full the shining block, Masonry against night. Let window, curtain, blind Soft-sieve and sift and shred The impertinence of sound. […]...
2. Night-piece what’s that i’m awake A bang like a door or a foot Knocking a chair who’s there Tense i lie in my bed my face Stretching out on the black air My ears strain……a creak this time Like a cat on the stair – but we have no cat If the door-handle turned and a…. […]...
3. Night Piece, to Julia Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee, And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like sparks of fire befriend thee. No will-o’th’-wisp mislight thee; No snake or slow-worm bite thee; But on, on thy way, Not making a stay, Since ghost there’s none to affright thee. Let not the dark […]...
4. The Night Piece, to Julia Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. No Will-o’-th’-Wisp mis-light thee, Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee; But on, on thy way, Not making a stay, Since ghost there’s none to affright thee. Let not the […]...
5. A Night-Piece By Millet Wind and sea and cloud and cloud-forsaking Mirth of moonlight where the storm leaves free Heaven awhile, for all the wrath of waking Wind and sea. Bright with glad mad rapture, fierce with glee, Laughs the moon, borne on past cloud’s o’ertaking Fast, it seems, as wind or sail can flee. One blown sail beneath […]...
6. A Summer Night HER mist of primroses within her breast Twilight hath folded up, and o’er the west, Seeking remoter valleys long hath gone, Not yet hath come her sister of the dawn. Silence and coolness now the earth enfold, Jewels of glittering green, long mists of gold, Hazes of nebulous silver veil the height, And shake in […]...
7. The Piper AGAIN I hear you piping, for I know the tune so well, – You rouse the heart to wander and be free, Tho’ where you learned your music, not the God of song can tell, For you pipe the open highway and the sea. O piper, lightly footing, lightly piping on your way, Tho’ your […]...
8. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
9. Sonnet 115 – All we were going strong last night this time All we were going strong last night this time, The mosts were flying & the frozen daiquiris Were downing, supine on the floor lay Lise Listening to Schubert grievous & sublime, My head was frantic with a following rime: It was a good evening, and evening to please, I kissed her in the kitchen – […]...
10. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
11. A Spring Piece Left In The Middle Taut, thick fingers punch The teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING… And me poet, proofreader, The man who’s forced to read Two thousand bad lines every day for two liras Why, since spring has come, am I still sitting here like a ragged black chair? My […]...
12. The Night Dance Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high, And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean, Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye, Obey the mute call, and heave into motion. Then, sound notes the gayest, the lightest, That ever took wing, when heaven look’d […]...
13. Night-Music At one the wind rose, And with it the noise Of the black poplars. Long since had the living By a thin twine Been led into their dreams Where lanterns shine Under a still veil Of falling streams; Long since had the dead Become untroubled In the light soil. There were no mouths To drink […]...
14. Theme For English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here To this college on the hill above Harlem. I am […]...
15. Songs Of Innocence: Introduction Piping down the valleys wild Piping songs of pleasant glee On a cloud I saw a child. And he laughing said to me. Pipe a song about a Lamb: So I piped with merry chear, Piper, pipe that song again So I piped, he wept to hear. Drop thy pipe thy happy pipe Sing thy […]...
16. The Aim was Song Before man came to blow it right The wind once blew itself untaught, And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught. Man came to tell it what was wrong: I hadn’t found the place to blow; It blew too hard the aim was song. And listen how it ought […]...
17. Introduction to the Songs of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again;’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
18. Reeds of Innocence Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a Lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again;’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
19. Piping Down the Valleys Wild Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe a song about a lamb!’ So I piped with merry cheer. ‘Piper, pipe that song again.’ So I piped: he wept to hear. ‘Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy […]...
20. Andy the Night-Watch In my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted hickory cane, I slipped about with a bull’s-eye lantern From door to door on the square, As the midnight stars wheeled round, And the bell in the steeple murmured From the blowing of the wind; […]...
21. 'Tis my first night beneath the Sun ‘Tis my first night beneath the Sun If I should spend it here Above him is too low a height For his Barometer Who Airs of expectation breathes And takes the Wind at prime But Distance his Delights confides To those who visit him...
22. Last Night's Encounter a) Last night’s encounter Gave the little rat and me A terrible blow B) It’s my job therefore To make it clearly see That one of us must go...
23. Song of the Sea-Wind When the sun sets over the long blue wave I spring from my couch of rest, And I hurtle and boom over leagues of foam That toss in the weltering west, I pipe a hymn to the headlands high, My comrades forevermore, And I chase the tricksy curls of foam O’er the glimmering sandy shore. […]...
24. A Sleepless Night April, and the last of the plum blossoms Scatters on the black grass Before dawn. The sycamore, the lime, The struck pine inhale The first pale hints of sky. An iron day, I think, yet it will come Dazzling, the light Rise from the belly of leaves and pour Burning from the cups Of poppies. […]...
25. The Task: Book II, The Time-Piece (excerpts) England, with all thy faults, I love thee still My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found, Shall be constrain’d to love thee. Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year most part deform’d With dripping rains, or wither’d by a frost, I would not yet […]...
26. NIGHT THOUGHTS OH, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn, Ye by whom the sea-toss’d sailor’s lighted, Who with radiant beams the heav’ns adorn, But by gods and men are unrequited: For ye love not, ne’er have learnt to love! Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move, In the spacious sky your charms displaying, What far travels ye have […]...
27. A Night there lay the Days between A Night there lay the Days between The Day that was Before And Day that was Behind were one And now ’twas Night was here Slow Night that must be watched away As Grains upon a shore Too imperceptible to note Till it be night no more...
28. Under The Balcony O beautiful star with the crimson mouth! O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the odorous south! And light for my love her way, Lest her little feet should stray On the windy hill and the wold! O beautiful star with the crimson mouth! O moon with the brows of […]...
29. Some say goodnight at night Some say goodnight at night I say goodnight by day Good-bye the Going utter me Goodnight, I still reply For parting, that is night, And presence, simply dawn Itself, the purple on the height Denominated morn....
30. The Science Of The Night I touch you in the night, whose gift was you, My careless sprawler, And I touch you cold, unstirring, star-bemused, That have become the land of your self-strangeness. What long seduction of the bone has led you Down the imploring roads I cannot take Into the arms of ghosts I never knew, Leaving my manhood […]...
31. A November Night There! See the line of lights, A chain of stars down either side the street Why can’t you lift the chain and give it to me, A necklace for my throat? I’d twist it round And you could play with it. You smile at me As though I were a little dreamy child Behind whose […]...
32. Sonnet 01 Go Valentine and tell that lovely maid Whom Fancy still will pourtray to my sight, How her Bard lingers in this sullen shade, This dreary gloom of dull monastic night. Say that from every joy of life remote At evening’s closing hour he quits the throng, Listening alone the ring-dove’s plaintive note Who pours like […]...
33. Go, Valentine Go, Valentine, and tell that lovely maid Whom fancy still will portray to my sight, How here I linger in this sullen shade, This dreary gloom of dull monastic night; Say, that every joy of life remote At evening’s closing hour I quit the throng, Listening in solitude the ring-dome’s note, Who pours like me […]...
34. Sorley's Weather When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter-skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make a gentle song Here in my firelit study, When outside the winds blow strong And the lanes are muddy? With old wine and drowsy meats Am I to fill my belly? Shall I glutton here […]...
35. Rain a symphony orchestra. There is a thunderstorm, They are playing a Wagner overture And the people leave their seats under the trees And run inside to the pavilion The women giggling, the men pretending calm, Wet cigarettes being thrown away, Wagner plays on, and then they are all under the Pavilion. the birds even come […]...
36. A Watch In The Night Watchman, what of the night? – Storm and thunder and rain, Lights that waver and wane, Leaving the watchfires unlit. Only the balefires are bright, And the flash of the lamps now and then From a palace where spoilers sit, Trampling the children of men. Prophet, what of the night? – I stand by the […]...
37. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
38. Night Is On The Downland Night is on the downland, on the lonely moorland, On the hills where the wind goes over sheep-bitten turf, Where the bent grass beats upon the unplowed poorland And the pine-woods roar like the surf. Here the Roman lived on the wind-barren lonely, Dark now and haunted by the moorland fowl; None comes here now […]...
39. Museum Piece The good gray guardians of art Patrol the halls on spongy shoes, Impartially protective, though Perhaps suspicious of Toulouse. Here dozes one against the wall, Disposed upon a funeral chair. A Degas dancer pirouettes Upon the parting of his hair. See how she spins! The grace is there, But strain as well is plain to […]...
40. Piazza Piece I am a gentleman in a dustcoat trying To make you hear. Your ears are soft and small And listen to an old man not at all, They want the young men’s whispering and sighing. But see the roses on your trellis dying And hear the spectral singing of the moon; For I must have […]...