Whoso List to Hunt

Related poetry:

1. An Emu Hunt West of Dubbo the west begins The land of leisure and hope and trust, Where the black man stalks with his dogs and gins And Nature visits the settlers’ sins With the Bogan shower, that is mostly dust. When the roley-poley’s roots dry out With the fierce hot winds and the want of rain, They […]...
2. Written On The Day That Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison What though, for showing truth to flattered state, Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he, In his immortal spirit, been as free As the sky-searching lark, and as elate. Minion of grandeur! think you he did wait? Think you he nought but prison-walls did see, Till, so unwilling, thou unturnedst the key? Ah, […]...
3. Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Good to hide, and hear ’em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound Good to know, and not tell, Best, to know and tell, Can one find the rare Ear Not too dull...
4. A list of some observation A list of some observation. In a corner, it’s warm. A glance leaves an imprint on anything it’s dwelt on. Water is glass’s most public form. Man is more frightening than its skeleton. A nowhere winter evening with wine. A black Porch resists an osier’s stiff assaults. Fixed on an elbow, the body bulks Like […]...
5. The List of Famous Hats Napoleon’s hat is an obvious choice I guess to list as a famous Hat, but that’s not the hat I have in mind. That was his hat for Show. I am thinking of his private bathing cap, which in all hon- Esty wasn’t much different than the one any jerk might buy at a Corner […]...
6. The Hunt The hunt begins at a languid pace Belying hysteria building in place, biding its time To menace the peace in an orchard where mayhem’s Scant held on a leash. Abigail Belle’s the first into line, Although not their leader, her nose to the ground She’s checking for markers down leafy green rows, Round tree studded […]...
7. The Gardener LXIX: I Hunt for the Golden Stag I hunt for the golden stag. You may smile, my friends, but I Pursue the vision that eludes me. I run across hills and dales, I wander Through nameless lands, because I am Hunting for the golden stag. You come and buy in the market And go back to your homes laden with Goods, but […]...
8. Now List to my Morning's Romanza 1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza-I tell the signs of the Answerer; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother; How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother? Tell him […]...
9. Is It Possible Is it possible That so high debate, So sharp, so sore, and of such rate, Should end so soon and was begun so late? Is it possible? Is it possible So cruel intent, So hasty heat and so soon spent, From love to hate, and thence for to relent? Is it possible? Is it possible […]...
10. Zenas Witt I was sixteen, and I had the most terrible dreams, And specks before my eyes, and nervous weakness. And I couldn’t remember the books I read, Like Frank Drummer who memorized page after page. And my back was weak, and I worried and worried, And I was embarrassed and stammered my lessons, And when I […]...
11. Shit List; Or, Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity You’ll rejoice at how many kinds of shit there are: Gosling shit (which J. Williams said something Was as green as), fish shit (the generality), trout Shit, rainbow trout shit (for the nice), mullet shit, Sand dab shit, casual sloth shit, elephant shit (awesome as process or payload), wildebeest shit, Horse shit (a favorite), caterpillar […]...
12. The Great Hunt I cannot tell you now; When the wind’s drive and whirl Blow me along no longer, And the wind’s a whisper at last Maybe I’ll tell you then some other time. When the rose’s flash to the sunset Reels to the rack and the twist, And the rose is a red bygone, When the face […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. Ye Old Mule Ye old mule that think yourself so fair, Leave off with craft your beauty to repair, For it is true, without any fable, No man setteth more by riding in your saddle. Too much travail so do your train appair. Ye old mule With false savour though you deceive th’air, Whoso taste you shall well […]...
15. Translation From the Gull Language ‘Twas grav’d on the Stone of Destiny, In letters four, and letters three; And ne’er did the King of the Gulls go by But those awful letters scar’d his eye; For he knew that a Prophet Voice had said “As long as those words by man were read, The ancient race of the Gulls should […]...
16. On a Picture Painted by her self, representing two Nimphs of DIANA's, one in a posture to Hunt, the other Batheing WE are Diana’s Virgin-Train, Descended of no Mortal Strain; Our Bows and Arrows are our Goods, Our Pallaces, the lofty Woods, The Hills and Dales, at early Morn, Resound and Eccho with our Horn; We chase the Hinde and Fallow-Deer, The Wolf and Boar both dread our Spear; In Swiftness we out-strip the Wind, An […]...
17. Sonnet 08 With many a weary step, at length I gain Thy summit, Lansdown; and the cool breeze plays, Gratefully round my brow, as hence the gaze Returns to dwell upon the journeyed plain. ‘Twas a long way and tedious! to the eye Tho fair the extended vale, and fair to view The falling leaves of many […]...
18. The Fury Of Beautiful Bones Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love. Oh sing, bone bag man, sing. Your head is what I remember that Augusty You were in love with another woman but […]...
19. 74. Fragment-Her Flwoing Locks HER flowing locks, the raven’s wing, Adown her neck and bosom hing; How sweet unto that breast to cling, And round that neck entwine her! Her lips are roses wat wi’ dew, O’ what a feast her bonie mou’! Her cheeks a mair celestial hue, A crimson still diviner!...
20. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
21. Alone in Crowds to Wander On Alone in crowds to wander on, And feel that all the charm is gone Which voices dear and eyes beloved Shed round us once, where’er we roved This, this the doom must be Of all who’ve loved, and loved to see The few bright things they thought would stay For ever near them, die away. […]...
22. Two Words ‘God’ is composed of letters three, But if you put an ‘l’ Before the last it seems to me A synonym for Hell. For all of envy, greed and hate The human heart can hold Respond unto the devil’s bait Of Gold. When God created Gold to be For our adorning fit, I little think […]...
23. 122. The Lass o' Ballochmyle ‘TWAS even-the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang; The zephyr wanton’d round the bean, And bore its fragrant sweets alang: In ev’ry glen the mavis sang, All nature list’ning seem’d the while, Except where greenwood echoes rang, Amang the braes o’ Ballochmyle. With careless step I onward stray’d, My heart rejoic’d […]...
24. Since so Ye Please Since so ye please to hear me plain, And that ye do rejoice my smart, Me list no lenger to remain To such as be so overthwart. But cursed be that cruel heart Which hath procur’d a careless mind For me and mine unfeigned smart, And forceth me such faults to find. More than too […]...
25. Knock with tremor Knock with tremor These are Caesars Should they be at Home Flee as if you trod unthinking On the Foot of Doom These receded to accostal Centuries ago Should they rend you with “How are you” What have you to show?...
26. Public Waste By the Laws of the Family Circle ’tis written in letters of brass That only a Colonel from Chatham can manage the Railways of State, Because of the gold on his breeks, and the subjects wherein he must pass; Because in all matters that deal not with Railways his knowledge is great. Now Exeter Battleby […]...
27. The Black Hawk War of the Artists WRITTEN FOR LORADO TAFT’S STATUE OF BLACK HAWK AT OREGON, ILLINOIS To be given in the manner of the Indian Oration and the Indian War-Cry. Hawk of the Rocks, Yours is our cause to-day. Watching your foes Here in our war array, Young men we stand, Wolves of the West at bay. Power, power for […]...
28. The Song of the Darling River The skies are brass and the plains are bare, Death and ruin are everywhere And all that is left of the last year’s flood Is a sickly stream on the grey-black mud; The salt-springs bubble and the quagmires quiver, And this is the dirge of the Darling River: ‘I rise in the drought from the […]...
29. The Guardian Angel Of The Private Life All this was written on the next day’s list. On which the busyness unfurled its cursive roots, Pale but effective, And the long stem of the necessary, the sum of events, Built-up its tiniest cathedral… (Or is it the sum of what takes place? ) If I lean down, to whisper, to them, Down into […]...
30. Her Initals UPON a poet’s page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent thought Whence that high singer’s rapture came. When now I turn the leaf the same Immortal light illumes the lay But from the letters of her name The radiance has died away....
31. Mail Call The letters always just evade the hand One skates like a stone into a beam, falls like a bird. Surely the past from which the letters rise Is waiting in the future, past the graves? The soldiers are all haunted by their lives. Their claims upon their kind are paid in paper That established a […]...
32. Hold your mad hands Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? For ever must your Niger’s tainted flood, Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain? Hold your mad hands! and learn at length to know, And turn your vengeance on the common foe, Yon treacherous vessel and […]...
33. Portrait of the Artist as a Prematurely Old Man It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts, That all sin is divided into two parts. One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important, And it is what you are doing when you are doing something you ortant, And the other kind of […]...
34. Plea Secrets, you said, would hold us two apart; You’d have me know of you your least transgression, And so the intimate places of your heart, Kneeling, you bared to me, as in confession. Softly you told of loves that went before- Of clinging arms, of kisses gladly given; Luxuriously clean of heart once more, You […]...
35. The Pilgrims Who is your lady of love, O ye that pass Singing? and is it for sorrow of that which was That ye sing sadly, or dream of what shall be? For gladly at once and sadly it seems ye sing. Our lady of love by you is unbeholden; For hands she hath none, nor eyes, […]...
36. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
37. Autumn Birds The wild duck startles like a sudden thought, And heron slow as if it might be caught. The flopping crows on weary wings go by And grey beard jackdaws noising as they fly. The crowds of starnels whizz and hurry by, And darken like a clod the evening sky. The larks like thunder rise and […]...
38. My Lute Awake My lute awake! perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and past, My lute be still, for I have done. As to be heard where ear is none, As lead to grave in marble stone, My song may pierce […]...
39. La Bella Donna Della Mia Mente My limbs are wasted with a flame, My feet are sore with travelling, For, calling on my Lady’s name, My lips have now forgot to sing. O Linnet in the wild-rose brake Strain for my Love thy melody, O Lark sing louder for love’s sake, My gentle Lady passeth by. She is too fair for […]...
40. To Marguerite Yes! in the sea of life enisled, With echoing straits between us thrown, Dotting the shoreless watery wild, We mortal millions live alone. The islands feel the enclasping flow, And then their endless bounds they know. But when the moon their hollows lights, And they are swept by balms of spring, And in their glens, […]...