A man toiled on a burning road

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1. Tewkesbury Road IT is good to be out on the road, and going one knows not where, Going through meadow and village, one knows not whither or why; Through the grey light drift of the dust, in the keen cool rush of the air, Under the flying white clouds, and the broad blue lift of the sky. […]...
2. No Road Since we agreed to let the road between us Fall to disuse, And bricked our gates up, planted trees to screen us, And turned all time’s eroding agents loose, Silence, and space, and strangers – our neglect Has not had much effect. Leaves drift unswept, perhaps; grass creeps unmown; No other change. So clear it […]...
3. Brookland Road I was very well pleased with what I knowed, I reckoned myself no fool Till I met with a maid on the Brookland Road, That turned me back to school. Low down-low down! Where the liddle green lanterns shine O maids, I’ve done with ‘ee all but one, And she can never’ be mine! ‘Twas […]...
4. Road and Hills I shall go away To the brown hills, the quiet ones, The vast, the mountainous, the rolling, Sun-fired and drowsy! My horse snuffs delicately At the strange wind; He settles to a swinging trot; his hoofs tramp the dust. The road winds, straightens, Slashes a marsh, Shoulders out a bridge, Then Again the hills. Unchanged, […]...
5. Burning Drift-Wood Before my drift-wood fire I sit, And see, with every waif I burn, Old dreams and fancies coloring it, And folly’s unlaid ghosts return. O ships of mine, whose swift keels cleft The enchanted sea on which they sailed, Are these poor fragments only left Of vain desires and hopes that failed? Did I not […]...
6. The Road The road is thronged with women; soldiers pass And halt, but never see them; yet they’re here – A patient crowd along the sodden grass, Silent, worn out with waiting, sick with fear. The road goes crawling up a long hillside, All ruts and stones and sludge, and the emptied dregs Of battle thrown in […]...
7. Song of the Open Road 1 AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune-I myself am good fortune; Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Strong and content, I travel the open road. The earth-that […]...
8. Burning Off They’re burning off at the Rampadells, The tawny flames uprise, With greedy licking around the trees; The fierce breath sears our eyes. From cores already grown furnace-hot – The logs are well alight! We fling more wood where the flameless heart Is throbbing red and white. The fire bites deep in that beating heart, The […]...
9. There was one I met upon the road There was one I met upon the road Who looked at me with kind eyes. Her said, “Show me of your wares.” And this I did, Holding forth one. He said, “It is a sin.” Then held I forth another; He said, “It is a sin.” Then held I forth another; He said, “It is […]...
10. A Seed See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down, And through the Winter neglected lay, Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown, With tiny root taking hold on the clay As, lifting and strengthening day by day, It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves, And cell after cell the Power in it weaves Out of […]...
11. The Burning of the Leaves Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke Wandering slowly into the weeping mist. Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves! A flame seizes the smouldering ruin, and bites On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist. The last hollyhock’s fallen tower is […]...
12. The Burning-Glass A SHAFT of fire that falls like dew, And melts and maddens all my blood, From out thy spirit flashes through The burning-glass of womanhood. Only so far; here must I stay: Nearer I miss the light, the fire; I must endure the torturing ray, And with all beauty, all desire. Ah, time long must […]...
13. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
14. Burning the Doll I am the girl who burned her doll, Who gave her father the doll to burn ” The bride doll I had been given At six, as a Christmas gift, By the same great uncle who once introduced me At my blind second cousin’s wedding To a man who winced, A future Miss America, I’m […]...
15. Warble for Lilac-Time WARBLE me now, for joy of Lilac-time, Sort me, O tongue and lips, for Nature’s sake, and sweet life’s sake-and death’s the same as life’s, Souvenirs of earliest summer-birds’ eggs, and the first berries; Gather the welcome signs, (as children, with pebbles, or stringing shells;) Put in April and May-the hylas croaking in the ponds-the […]...
16. The Burning Book OR THE CONTENTED METAPHYSICIAN TO the lore of no manner of men Would his vision have yielded When he found what will never again From his vision be shielded,- Though he paid with as much of his life As a nun could have given, And to-night would have been as a knife, Devil-drawn, devil-driven. For […]...
17. The Burning of the Ship Kent Good people of high and low degree, I pray ye all to list to me, And I’ll relate a harrowing tale of the sea Concerning the burning of the ship “Kent” in the Bay of Biscay, Which is the most appalling tale of the present century. She carried a crew, including officers, of 148 men, […]...
18. The Burning of the Steamer City of Montreal A sad tale of the sea I will relate, which will your hearts appal Concerning the burning of the steamship “City of Montreal,” Which had on board two hundred and forty-nine souls in all, But, alas! a fearful catastrophe did them befall. The steamer left New York on the 6th August with a general cargo, […]...
19. The Rolling English Road Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire, And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire; A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread The […]...
20. Burning of the Exeter Theatre ‘Twas in the year of 1887, which many people will long remember, The burning of the Theatre at Exeter on the 5th of September, Alas! that ever-to-be-remembered and unlucky night, When one hundred and fifty lost their lives, a most agonising sight. The play on this night was called “Romany Rye,” And at act four, […]...
21. Here Follows Some Verses upon the Burning of Our House In silent night when rest I took For sorrow near I did not look I waked was with thund’ring noise And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice. That fearful sound of “Fire!” and “Fire!” Let no man know is my desire. I, starting up, the light did spy, And to my God my heart did cry […]...
22. Upon the road of my life Upon the road of my life, Passed me many fair creatures, Clothed all in white, and radiant. To one, finally, I made speech: “Who art thou?” But she, like the others, Kept cowled her face, And answered in haste, anxiously, “I am good deed, forsooth; You have often seen me.” “Not uncowled,” I made reply. […]...
23. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, Full of white shirts and salad greens, The icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, And I wore movies in my eyes, And you wore eggs in your tunnel, And we played sheets, sheets, sheets All day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I […]...
24. The Burning of the People's Variety Theatre, Aberdeen ‘Twas in the year of 1896, and on the 30th of September, Which many people in Aberdeen will long remember; The burning of the People’s Variety Theatre, in Bridge Place Because the fire spread like lightning at a rapid pace. The fire broke out on the stage, about eight o’clock, Which gave to the audience […]...
25. Verses upon the Burning of our House, July 18th In silent night when rest I took, For sorrow near I did not look, I waken’d was with thund’ring noise And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice. That fearful sound of ‘fire’ and ‘fire,’ Let no man know is my Desire. I starting up, the light did spy, And to my God my heart did cry […]...
26. Consolation All are not taken; there are left behind Living Belovиds, tender looks to bring And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind: But if it were not so-if I could find No love in all this world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring Where […]...
27. The Road to Avignon A Minstrel stands on a marble stair, Blown by the bright wind, debonair; Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor, Above on the terrace a turret door Frames a lady, listless and wan, But fair for the eye to rest upon. The minstrel plucks at his silver strings, And looking up to the lady, sings: […]...
28. The Exeter Road Panels of claret and blue which shine Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak as they roll Through the muddy ruts of a moorland track. They daren’t look back! They are whipping and cursing the horses. Lord! What brutes men are when […]...
29. The Field Daisy I’m a pretty little thing, Always coming with the spring; In the meadows green I’m found, Peeping just above the ground, And my stalk is cover’d flat With a white and yellow hat. Little Mary, when you pass Lightly o’er the tender grass, Skip about, but do not tread On my bright but lowly head, […]...
30. The Mower's Song My Mind was once the true survey Of all these Medows fresh and gay; And in the greenness of the Grass Did see its Hopes as in a Glass; When Juliana came, and she What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. But these, while I with Sorrow pine, Grew more […]...
31. THE ROAD TO HAWORTH MOOR for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we had left, but still somehow We made a nook in the crooked corner of Hall Ings, A Wordsworthian dream with sheep nibbling by every crumbling Dry-stone wall, smoke inching from the chimney pot beside the […]...
32. September On Jessore Road Millions of babies watching the skies Bellies swollen, with big round eyes On Jessore Road long bamboo huts Noplace to shit but sand channel ruts Millions of fathers in rain Millions of mothers in pain Millions of brothers in woe Millions of sisters nowhere to go One Million aunts are dying for bread One Million […]...
33. Sestina I have come, alas, to the great circle of shadow, To the short day and to the whitening hills, When the colour is all lost from the grass, Though my desire will not lose its green, So rooted is it in this hardest stone, That speaks and feels as though it were a woman. And […]...
34. Petropolis From a fearful height, a wandering light, But does a star glitter like this, crying? Transparent star, wandering light Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. From a fearful height, earthly dreams are alight, And a green star is crying. Oh star, if you are the brother of water and light, Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. A […]...
35. On the Road to Nowhere On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father’s house With your cheeks aglow? Eyes so strained and eager To see what you might see? Were you thief or were you fool Or most nobly free? Were the tramp-days knightly, True sowing of wild seed? Did you dare […]...
36. The Road Not Taken Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy […]...
37. The Road and the End I SHALL foot it Down the roadway in the dusk, Where shapes of hunger wander And the fugitives of pain go by. I shall foot it In the silence of the morning, See the night slur into dawn, Hear the slow great winds arise Where tall trees flank the way And shoulder toward the sky. […]...
38. On the Road Roar of the rushing train fearfully rocking, Impatient people jammed in line for food, The rasping noise of cars together knocking, And worried waiters, some in ugly mood, Crowding into the choking pantry hole To call out dishes for each angry glutton Exasperated grown beyond control, From waiting for his soup or fish or mutton. […]...
39. The Road I, too, would ease my old car to a stop On the side of some country road And count the stars or admire a sunset Or sit quietly through an afternoon…. I’d open the door and go walking Like James Wright across a meadow, Where I might touch a pony’s ear and Break into blossom; […]...
40. On a Tree Fallen Across the Road (To hear us talk) The tree the tempest with a crash of wood Throws down in front of us is not bar Our passage to our journey’s end for good, But just to ask us who we think we are Insisting always on our own way so. She likes to halt us in our runner […]...