Lonely Burial

Related poetry:

1. Dream Song 40: I'm scared a lonely. Never see my son I’m scared a lonely. Never see my son, Easy be not to see anyone, Combers out to sea Know they’re goin somewhere but not me. Got a little poison, got a little gun, I’m scared a lonely. I’m scared a only one thing, which is me, From othering I don’t take nothin, see, For any […]...
2. The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean Unhappy about some far off things That are not my affair, wandering Along the coast and up the lean ridges, I saw in the evening The stars go over the lonely ocean, And a black-maned wild boar Plowing with his snout on Mal Paso Mountain. The old monster snuffled, “Here are sweet roots, Fat grubs, […]...
3. The Lonely God So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve. His face was sad, His hands hung slackly down Along his robe; too sorrowful to frown He paced along the grassy paths and through The silent trees, and where the flowers grew Tended by Adam. All the birds had gone […]...
4. In a lonely place In a lonely place, I encountered a sage Who sat, all still, Regarding a newspaper. He accosted me: “Sir, what is this?” Then I saw that I was greater, Aye, greater than this sage. I answered him at once, “Old, old man, it is the wisdom of the age.” The sage looked upon me with […]...
5. Samuel Palmer prepares to etch " The Lonely Tower &quot I must return To that valley of vision, Gather again to me Flocks, crescent moon and star; God – let the last lights burn At this down-dusking of heaven’s intermission, Grant a rebirth to things I used to see Seeming so close – yet known to be so far. Long since I knocked At the […]...
6. Speak Of The North! A Lonely Moor Speak of the North! A lonely moor Silent and dark and tractless swells, The waves of some wild streamlet pour Hurriedly through its ferny dells. Profoundly still the twilight air, Lifeless the landscape; so we deem Till like a phantom gliding near A stag bends down to drink the stream. And far away a mountain […]...
7. One Lonely Afternoon Since the fern can’t go to the sink for a drink of Water, I graciously submit myself to the task, bringing two Glasses from the sink. And so we sit, the fern and I, sipping water together. Of course I’m more complex than a fern, full of deep Thoughts as I am. But I lay […]...
8. I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending […]...
9. I know some lonely Houses off the Road I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber’d like the look of Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to A Portico, Where two could creep One hand the Tools The other peep To make sure All’s Asleep Old fashioned eyes Not easy to surprise! How orderly the Kitchen’d look, by night, With […]...
10. Dream Song 224: Lonely in his great age Eighty Lonely in his great age, Henry’s old friend Leaned on his burning cane while hís old friend Was hymnéd out of living. The Abbey rang with sound. Pound white as snow Bowed to them with his thoughts—it’s hard to know them though For the old man sang no word. Dry, ripe with pain, busy […]...
11. Dream Song 114: Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines. When ich when was ever not in trouble? But did he whip out whines Afore? And when check in wif ales & lifelines Anyone earlier O? —Some, now, Mr Bones, Many. —I am fleeing double: Mr Past being no friends of mine, All them around: Sir Future Dubious, […]...
12. Home Burial He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look again. He spoke Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see From up there always for […]...
13. The Burial of Mr. Gladstone Alas! the people now do sigh and moan For the loss of Wm. Ewart Gladstone, Who was a very great politician and a moral man, And to gainsay it there’s few people can. ‘Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 19th of May, When his soul took its flight for ever and aye, […]...
14. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
15. Paudeen Indignant at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite Of our old paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light; Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought That on the lonely height where all are in God’s eye, There […]...
16. The Burial 1904(C. F. Rhodes, buried in the Matoppos, April 10, 1902) When that great Kings return to clay, Or Emperors in their pride, Grief of a day shall fill a day, Because its creature died. But we we reck on not with those Whom the mere Fates ordain, This Power that wrought on us and goes […]...
17. Burial Mine is a body that should die at sea! And have for a grave, instead of a grave Six feet deep and the length of me, All the water that is under the wave! And terrible fishes to seize my flesh, Such as a living man might fear, And eat me while I am firm […]...
18. BURIAL To the grave one day from a house they bore A maiden; To the window the citizens went to explore; In splendour they lived, and with wealth as of yore Their banquets were laden. Then thought they: “The maid to the tomb is now borne; We too from our dwellings ere long must be torn, […]...
19. The Fear Of Burial In the empty field, in the morning, The body waits to be claimed. The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock Nothing comes to give it form again. Think of the body’s loneliness. At night pacing the sheared field, Its shadow buckled tightly around. Such a long journey. And already the remote, trembling lights […]...
20. The Choirmaster's Burial He often would ask us That, when he died, After playing so many To their last rest, If out of us any Should here abide, And it would not task us, We would with our lutes Play over him By his grave-brim The psalm he liked best- The one whose sense suits “Mount Ephraim”- And […]...
21. A Ballad of Burial (“Saint Proxed’s ever was the Church for peace”) If down here I chance to die, Solemnly I beg you take All that is left of “I” To the Hills for old sake’s sake, Pack me very thoroughly In the ice that used to slake Pegs I drank when I was dry This observe for old […]...
22. Burial of the Minnisink On sunny slope and beechen swell, The shadowed light of evening fell; And, where the maple’s leaf was brown, With soft and silent lapse came down, The glory, that the wood receives, At sunset, in its golden leaves. Far upward in the mellow light Rose the blue hills. One cloud of white, Around a far […]...
23. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
24. Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
25. A train went through a burial gate A train went through a burial gate, A bird broke forth and sang, And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat Till all the churchyard rang; And then adjusted his little notes, And bowed and sang again. Doubtless, he thought it meet of him To say good-by to men....
26. The Burial of the Reverend Gilfillan On the Gilfillan burial day, In the Hill o’ Balgay, It was a most solemn sight to see, Not fewer than thirty thousand people assembled in Dundee, All watching the funeral procession of Gilfillan that day, That death had suddenly taken away, And was going to be buried in the Hill o’ Balgay. There were […]...
27. The Strength of the Lonely (What the Mendicant Said ) The moon’s a monk, unmated, Who walks his cell, the sky. His strength is that of heaven-vowed men Who all life’s flames defy. They turn to stars or shadows, They go like snow or dew- Leaving behind no sorrow- Only the arching blue....
28. Death and Burial of Lord Tennyson Alas! England now mourns for her poet that’s gone- The late and the good Lord Tennyson. I hope his soul has fled to heaven above, Where there is everlasting joy and love. He was a man that didn’t care for company, Because company interfered with his study, And confused the bright ideas in his brain, […]...
29. The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator The end of the affair is always death. She’s my workshop. Slippery eye, Out of the tribe of myself my breath Finds you gone. I horrify Those who stand by. I am fed. At night, alone, I marry the bed. Finger to finger, now she’s mine. She’s not too far. She’s my encounter. I beat […]...
30. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed IF God compel thee to this destiny, To die alone, with none beside thy bed To ruffle round with sobs thy last word said And mark with tears the pulses ebb from thee, Pray then alone, ‘ O Christ, come tenderly! By thy forsaken Sonship in the red Drear wine-press, by the wilderness out-spread, And […]...
31. The Fallow Deer At The Lonely House One without looks in tonight Through the curtain-chink From the sheet of glistening white; One without looks in tonight As we sit and think By the fender-brink. We do not discern those eyes Watching in the snow; Lit by lamps of rosy dyes We do not discern those eyes Wandering, aglow Four-footed, tiptoe....
32. Sleeping Out: Full Moon They sleep within. . . . I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. High and cold thou dreamest, O queen, high-dreaming and lonely. We have slept too long, who can hardly win The white one flame, and the night-long crying; The viewless passers; the world’s low sighing With desire, with yearning, To the […]...
33. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
34. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
35. Bards of Passion and of Mirth, written on the Blank Page before Beaumont and Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid of the Inn&#039 BARDS of Passion and of Mirth, Ye have left your souls on earth! Have ye souls in heaven too, Doubled-lived in regions new? Yes, and those of heaven commune With the spheres of sun and moon; With the noise of fountains wondrous, And the parle of voices thund’rous; With the whisper of heaven’s trees And […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Doth Then The World Go Thus? Doth then the world go thus? doth all thus move? Is this the justice which on earth we find? Is this that firm decree which all doth bind? Are these your influences, Powers above? Those souls, which vice’s moody mists most blind, Blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove; And they who thee, poor […]...
38. The Free THEY bathed in the fire-flooded fountains: Life girdled them round and about: They slept in the clefts of the mountains: The stars called them forth with a shout. They prayed, but their worship was only The wonder at nights and at days, As still as the lips of the lonely Though burning with dumbness of […]...
39. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
40. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...