Colin Instructed

Related poetry:

1. The Rattling Boy from Dublin I’m a rattling boy from Dublin town, I courted a girl called Biddy Brown, Her eyes they were as black as sloes, She had black hair and an aquiline nose. Chorus Whack fal de da, fal de darelido, Whack fal de da, fal de darelay, Whack fal de da, fal de darelido, Whack fal de […]...
2. 159. Song-My Lord a-Hunting he is gane Chorus.-MY lady’s gown, there’s gairs upon’t, And gowden flowers sae rare upon’t; But Jenny’s jimps and jirkinet, My lord thinks meikle mair upon’t. My lord a-hunting he is gone, But hounds or hawks wi’ him are nane; By Colin’s cottage lies his game, If Colin’s Jenny be at hame. My lady’s gown, &c. My lady’s […]...
3. Reuben Pantier Well, Emily Sparks, your prayers were not wasted, Your love was not all in vain. I owe whatever I was in life To your hope that would not give me up, To your love that saw me still as good. Dear Emily Sparks, let me tell you the story. I pass the effect of my […]...
4. Trebetherick We used to picnic where the thrift Grew deep and tufted to the edge; We saw the yellow foam flakes drift In trembling sponges on the ledge Below us, till the wind would lift Them up the cliff and o’er the hedge. Sand in the sandwiches, wasps in the tea, Sun on our bathing dresses […]...
5. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
6. Buttons I HAVE been watching the war map slammed up for Advertising in front of the newspaper office. Buttons red and yellow buttons blue and black buttons Are shoved back and forth across the map. A laughing young man, sunny with freckles, Climbs a ladder, yells a joke to somebody in the crowd, And then fixes […]...
7. The Battle of Alma ‘Twas on the heights of Alma the battle began. But the Russians turned and fled every man; Because Sir Colin Campbell’s Highland Brigade put them to flight, At the charge of the bayonet, which soon ended the fight. Sir Colin Campbell he did loudly cry, Let the Highlanders go forward, they will win or die, […]...
8. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
9. A Truthful Song THE BRICKLAYER: I tell this tale, which is strictly true, Just by way of convincing you How very little, since things were made, Things have altered in building trade. A year ago, come the middle of March, We was building flats near the Marble Arch, When a thin young man with coal-black hair Came up […]...
10. 433. Song-Down the Burn, Davie love AS down the burn they took their way, And thro’ the flowery dale; His cheek to hers he aft did lay, And love was aye the tale: With “Mary, when shall we return, Sic pleasure to renew?” Quoth Mary-“Love, I like the burn, And aye shall follow you.”...
11. Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her Mistress on Britannia’s Throne; Fights, […]...
12. The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow through the Groves a wand’ring Muse And fain’d Idea’s for my pleasures chuse Why shou’d it in my Pen be held a fault Whilst Mira paints her face, to paint a thought Whilst Lamia to […]...
13. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. At Cheyenne Young Lochinvar came in from the West, With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest; The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat, His No. Brogans were chuck full of feet, His girdle was horrent with pistols and things, And he flourished a handful of aces on kings. The fair Mariana sate […]...
16. PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
17. Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers Are lying in field and lane, With dandelions to tell the hours That never are told again. Oh may I squire you round the meads And pick you posies gay? ‘Twill do no harm to take my arm. ‘You may, young man, you may.’ Ah, spring was sent […]...
18. All In The Golden Afternoon All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretense Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour, Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather! […]...
19. Chicago Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders; They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your Painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys. And they tell me […]...
20. Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent […]...
21. Prologue All in the golden afternoon Full leisurely we glide; For both our oars, with little skill, By little arms are plied, While little hands make vain pretence Our wanderings to guide. Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour Beneath such dreamy weather, To beg a tale of breath too weak To stir the tiniest feather&xclm. […]...
22. Young Sea The sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting. The sea speaks And only the stormy hearts Know what it says: It is the face of a rough mother speaking. The sea is young. One storm cleans all the hoar And loosens the age of it. I hear […]...
23. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. Robin Hood, An Outlaw Robin Hood is an outlaw bold Under the greenwood tree; Bird, nor stag, nor morning air Is more at large than he. They sent against him twenty men, Who joined him laughing-eyed; They sent against him thirty more, And they remained beside. All the stoutest of the train, That grew in Gamelyn wood, Whether they […]...
26. The Harlem Dancer Applauding youths laughed with young prostitutes And watched her perfect, half-clothed body sway; Her voice was like the sound of blended flutes Blown by black players upon a picnic day. She sang and danced on gracefully and calm, The light gauze hanging loose about her form; To me she seemed a proudly-swaying palm Grown lovelier […]...
27. The Ballad Of The Northern Lights One of the Down and Out that’s me. Stare at me well, ay, stare! Stare and shrink say! you wouldn’t think that I was a millionaire. Look at my face, it’s crimped and gouged one of them death-mask things; Don’t seem the sort of man, do I, as might be the pal of kings? Slouching […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. Les Silhouettes The sea is flecked with bars of grey, The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sand Lies the black boat: a sailor boy Clambers aboard in careless joy With laughing face and gleaming hand. And overhead […]...
31. Spelt From Sibyl's Leaves Earnest, earthless, equal, attuneable, ‘ vaulty, voluminous, … stupendous Evening strains to be tíme’s vást, ‘ womb-of-all, home-of-all, hearse-of-all night. Her fond yellow hornlight wound to the west, ‘ her wild hollow hoarlight hung to the height Waste; her earliest stars, earl-stars, ‘ stárs principal, overbend us, Fíre-féaturing heaven. For earth ‘ her being has […]...
32. Sonnet XXIV: O Thou! Meek Orb O thou! meek Orb! that stealing o’er the dale Cheer’st with thy modest beams the noon of night! On the smooth lake diffusing silv’ry light, Sublimely still, and beautifully pale! What can thy cool and placid eye avail, Where fierce despair absorbs the mental sight, While inbred glooms the vagrant thoughts invite, To tempt the […]...
33. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
34. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
35. Sad-Eyed and Soft and Grey Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou art, o morn! Across the long grass of the marshy plain Thy west wind whispers of the coming rain, Thy lark forgets that May is grown forlorn Above the lush blades of the springing corn, Thy thrush within the high elms strives in vain To store up tales of […]...
36. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
37. An Imperial Rescript Now this is the tale of the Council the German Kaiser decreed, To ease the strong of their burden, to help the weak in their need, He sent a word to the peoples, who struggle, and pant, and sweat, That the straw might be counted fairly and the tally of bricks be set. The Lords […]...
38. Keats The young Endymion sleeps Endymion’s sleep; The shepherd-boy whose tale was left half told! The solemn grove uplifts its shield of gold To the red rising moon, and loud and deep The nightingale is singing from the steep; It is midsummer, but the air is cold; Can it be death? Alas, beside the fold A […]...
39. 400. Song-Lovely young Jessie TRUE hearted was he, the sad swain o’ the Yarrow, And fair are the maids on the banks of the Ayr; But by the sweet side o’ the Nith’s winding river, Are lovers as faithful, and maidens as fair: To equal young JESSIE seek Scotland all over; To equal young JESSIE you seek it in […]...
40. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...