The Hawthorn Tree

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1. THE HAWTHORN TREE ACROSS the shimmering meadows Ah, when he came to me! In the spring-time, In the night-time, In the starlight, Beneath the hawthorn tree. Up from the misty marsh-land Ah, when he climbed to me! To my white bower, To my sweet rest, To my warm breast, Beneath the hawthorn tree. Ask of me what the […]...
2. The Bour-Tree Den CLINKUM-CLANK in the rain they ride, Down by the braes and the grey sea-side; Clinkum-clank by stane and cairn, Weary fa’ their horse-shoe-airn! Loud on the causey, saft on the sand, Round they rade by the tail of the land; Round and up by the Bour-Tree Den, Weary fa’ the red-coat men! Aft hae I […]...
3. The Tree of Scarlet Berries The rain gullies the garden paths And tinkles on the broad sides of grass blades. A tree, at the end of my arm, is hazy with mist. Even so, I can see that it has red berries, A scarlet fruit, Filmed over with moisture. It seems as though the rain, Dripping from it, Should be […]...
4. Acquainted With the Night I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I have stood still and stopped […]...
5. TO THE WILLOW-TREE Thou art to all lost love the best, The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids distrest And left of love, are crown’d. When once the lover’s rose is dead Or laid aside forlorn, Then willow-garlands, ’bout the head, Bedew’d with tears, are worn. When with neglect, the lover’s bane, Poor maids rewarded […]...
6. Bob's Lane Women he liked, did shovel-bearded Bob, Old Farmer Hayward of the Heath, but he Loved horses. He himself was like a cob And leather-coloured. Also he loved a tree. For the life in them he loved most living things, But a tree chiefly. All along the lane He planted elms where now the stormcock sings […]...
7. Jonathan Houghton There is the caw of a crow, And the hesitant song of a thrush. There is the tinkle of a cowbell far away, And the voice of a plowman on Shipley’s hill. The forest beyond the orchard is still With midsummer stillness; And along the road a wagon chuckles, Loaded with corn, going to Atterbury. […]...
8. Weep On, Weep On Weep on, weep on, your hour is past, Your dreams of pride are o’er; The fatal chain is round you cast, And you are men no more. In vain the hero’s heart hath bled; The sage’s tongue hath warn’d in vain; Oh, Freedom! once thy flame hath fled, It never lights again! Weep on perhaps […]...
9. The Tale of the Tiger-Tree A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the cause of war in all ages. It shows how the mammoth forces may be either friends or enemies of the struggle for peace. It shows how the dream of peace is unconquerable and eternal. I […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. Song of the Redwood-Tree 1 A CALIFORNIA song! A prophecy and indirection-a thought impalpable, to breathe, as air; A chorus of dryads, fading, departing-or hamadryads departing; A murmuring, fateful, giant voice, out of the earth and sky, Voice of a mighty dying tree in the Redwood forest dense. Farewell, my brethren, Farewell, O earth and sky-farewell, ye neighboring waters; […]...
12. The Three Fishers 1 Three fishers went sailing away to the west, 2 Away to the west as the sun went down; 3 Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, 4 And the children stood watching them out of the town; 5 For men must work, and women must weep, 6 And there’s little to […]...
13. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
14. The Foolish Fir-Tree A tale that the poet Rückert told To German children, in days of old; Disguised in a random, rollicking rhyme Like a merry mummer of ancient time, And sent, in its English dress, to please The little folk of the Christmas trees. A little fir grew in the midst of the wood Contented and happy, […]...
15. Alone I’ve listened: and all the sounds I heard Were music,-wind, and stream, and bird. With youth who sang from hill to hill I’ve listened: my heart is hungry still. I’ve looked: the morning world was green; Bright roofs and towers of town I’ve seen; And stars, wheeling through wingless night. I’ve looked: and my soul […]...
16. Cherry – Tree Inn The rafters are open to sun, moon, and star, Thistles and nettles grow high in the bar The chimneys are crumbling, the log fires are dead, And green mosses spring from the hearthstone instead. The voices are silent, the bustle and din, For the railroad hath ruined the Cherry-tree Inn. Save the glimmer of stars, […]...
17. Tree and Sky Let my soul, a shining tree, Silver branches lift towards thee, Where on a hallowed winter’s night The clear-eyed angels may alight. And if there should be tempests in My spirit, let them surge like din Of noble melodies at war; With fervour of such blades of triumph as are Flashed in white orisons of […]...
18. The bottle tree A bottle tree bloometh in Winkyway land – Heigh-ho for a bottle, I say! A snug little berth in that ship I demand That rocketh the Bottle-Tree babies away Where the Bottle Tree bloometh by night and by day And reacheth its fruit to each wee, dimpled hand; You take of that fruit as much […]...
19. The Sugar-Plum Tree Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree? ‘T is a marvel of great renown! It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea In the garden of Shut-Eye Town; The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet (As those who have tasted it say) That good little children have only to eat Of […]...
20. The Fir-Tree and the Brook The Fir-Tree looked on stars, but loved the Brook! “O silver-voiced! if thou wouldst wait, My love can bravely woo.” All smiles forsook The brook’s white face. “Too late! Too late! I go to wed the sea. I know not if my love would curse or bless thee. I may not, dare not, tarry to […]...
21. Roses You love the roses – so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be […]...
22. A Tree Telling of Orpheus White dawn. Stillness. When the rippling began I took it for sea-wind, coming to our valley with rumors of salt, of treeless horizons. But the white fog Didn’t stir; the leaves of my brothers remained outstretched, unmoving. Yet the rippling drew nearer – and then my own outermost branches began to tingle, almost as if […]...
23. The Song of Yesterday I But yesterday I looked away O’er happy lands, where sunshine lay In golden blots, Inlaid with spots Of shade and wild forget-me-nots. My head was fair With flaxen hair, And fragrant breezes, faint and rare, And, warm with drouth From out the south, Blew all my curls across my mouth. And, cool and sweet, […]...
24. The Christmas Tree In the dark and damp of the alley cold, Lay the Christmas tree that hadn’t been sold; By a shopman dourly thrown outside; With the ruck and rubble of Christmas-tide; Trodden deep in the muck and mire, Unworthy even to feed a fire… So I stopped and salvaged that tarnished tree, And thus is the […]...
25. The stork Last night the Stork came stalking, And, Stork, beneath your wing Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber, The tiniest little thing! From Babyland, out yonder Beside a silver sea, You brought a priceless treasure As gift to mine and me! Last night my dear one listened – And, wife, you knew the cry – The dear […]...
26. The Lane Some day, I think, there will be people enough In Froxfield to pick all the blackberries Out of the hedges of Green Lane, the straight Broad lane where now September hides herself In bracken and blackberry, harebell and dwarf gorse. To-day, where yesterday a hundred sheep Were nibbling, halcyon bells shake to the sway Of […]...
27. All Alone I. Ah! wherefore by the Church-yard side, Poor little LORN ONE, dost thou stray? Thy wavy locks but thinly hide The tears that dim thy blue-eye’s ray; And wherefore dost thou sigh, and moan, And weep, that thou art left alone? II. Thou art not left alone, poor boy, The Trav’ller stops to hear thy […]...
28. The dreams Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew; One was a dream of the old, old days, And one was a dream of the new. One was a dream of a shady lane That led to the pickerel pond Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves To the […]...
29. Horses and Men in Rain LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window, And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys. Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches-and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks. […]...
30. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW Why do ye weep, sweet babes? can tears Speak grief in you, Who were but born Just as the modest morn Teem’d her refreshing dew? Alas, you have not known that shower That mars a flower, Nor felt th’ unkind Breath of a blasting wind, Nor are ye worn with years; Or warp’d as we, […]...
31. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
32. On A Great Hollow Tree Preethee stand still awhile, and view this tree Renown’d and honour’d for antiquitie By all the neighbour twiggs; for such are all The trees adjoyning, bee they nere so tall, Comparde to this: if here Jacke Maypole stood All men would sweare ’twere but a fishing rodde. Mark but the gyant trunk, which when you […]...
33. St. Alexis, Patron of Beggars We who beg for bread as we daily tread Country lane and city street, Let us kneel and pray on the broad highway To the saint with the vagrant feet. Our altar light is a buttercup bright, And our shrine is a bank of sod, But still we share St. Alexis’ care, The Vagabond of […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
36. Where is the Slave Oh, where’s the slave so lowly, Condemn’d to chains unholy, Who, could he burst His bonds at first, Would pine beneath them slowly? What soul, whose wrongs degrade it, Would wait till time decay’d it, When thus its wing At once may spring To the throne of Him who made it? Farewell, Erin, farewell, all, […]...
37. Some time Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh! I love you so You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know! Some time […]...
38. THE SHEPHERD'S LAMENT ON yonder lofty mountain A thousand times I stand, And on my staff reclining, Look down on the smiling land. My grazing flocks then I follow, My dog protecting them well; I find myself in the valley, But how, I scarcely can tell. The whole of the meadow is cover’d With flowers of beauty rare; […]...
39. Good-Night Then the bright lamp is carried in, The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lane, The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee About the firelit hearth; and see Our faces painted as we pass, Like pictures, on the window glass. Must we to bed indeed? Well then, […]...
40. Passing showers Yesterday a passing, transient shower, Slaked my thirst so gently, softly, Showers in March are unheard – In this arid part of the world. They say the world is dying, I know, I remember how you said love died, It was a passing shower, a fancy, That left you cold and shivering. This distance, these […]...