A Spot

Related poetry:

1. Garden-Spot God’s acre was her garden-spot, she said; She sat there often, of the Summer days, Little and slim and sweet, among the dead, Her hair a fable in the leveled rays. She turned the fading wreath, the rusted cross, And knelt to coax about the wiry stem. I see her gentle fingers on the moss […]...
2. THE CONSECRATED SPOT WHEN in the dance of the Nymphs, in the moonlight so holy assembled, Mingle the Graces, down from Olympus in secret descending, Here doth the minstrel hide, and list to their numbers enthralling, Here doth he watch their silent dances’ mysterious measure. All that is glorious in Heaven, and all that the earth in her […]...
3. DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT THE MAIDEN. I’VE seen him before me! What rapture steals o’er me! Oh heavenly sight! He’s coming to meet me; Perplex’d, I retreat me, With shame take to flight. My mind seems to wander! Ye rocks and trees yonder, Conceal ye my rapture. Conceal my delight! THE YOUTH. ‘Tis here I must find her, ‘Twas […]...
4. Step lightly on this narrow spot Step lightly on this narrow spot The broadest Land that grows Is not so ample as the Breast These Emerald Seams enclose. Step lofty, for this name be told As far as Cannon dwell Or Flag subsist or Fame export Her deathless Syllable....
5. Sonnet 104 – A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece, Diminutive, but room enough. . like clay To finger eager on some torrid day. . Who’d throw her black hair back, and hang, and tease. Never, not once in all one’s horny lease To’have had a demi-lay, a pretty, gay, Snug, slim and supple-breasted girl for play. […]...
6. Now What Is Love Now what is Love, I pray thee, tell? It is that fountain and that well Where pleasure and repentance dwell; It is, perhaps, the sauncing bell That tolls all into heaven or hell; And this is Love, as I hear tell. Yet what is Love, I prithee, say? It is a work on holiday, It […]...
7. The Widower For a season there must be pain For a little, little space I shall lose the sight of her face, Take back the old life again While She is at rest in her place. For a season this pain must endure, For a little, little while I shall sigh more often than smile Till time […]...
8. By an Evolutionist By an Evolutionist The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, ‘Am I your debtor?’ And the Lord-‘Not yet; but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.’ I. If my body come from brutes, my soul uncertain […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. Come down, O Maid COME down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang), In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire; And come, for Love […]...
11. The Missal Makers To visit the Escurial We took a motor bus, And there a guide mercurial Took charge of us. He showed us through room after room, And talked hour after hour, Of place, crypt and royal tomb, Of pomp and power. But in bewilderment of grace What pleased me most of all Were ancient missals proud […]...
12. She, To Him III I WILL be faithful to thee; aye, I will! And Death shall choose me with a wondering eye That he did not discern and domicile One his by right ever since that last Good-bye! I have no care for friends, or kin, or prime Of manhood who deal gently with me here; Amid the happy […]...
13. The Poet Only on me, the lonely one, The unending stars of the night shine, The stone fountain whispers its magic song, To me alone, to me the lonely one The colorful shadows of the wandering clouds Move like dreams over the open countryside. Neither house nor farmland, Neither forest nor hunting privilege is given to me, […]...
14. Fisherfolk I like to look at fishermen And oftentimes I wish One would be lucky now and then And catch a little fish. I watch them statuesquely stand, And at the water look; But if they pull their float to land It’s just to bait a hook. I ponder the psychology That roots them in their […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. Portrait (For S. A.)TO write one book in five years Or five books in one year, To be the painter and the thing painted, … where are we, bo? Wait-get his number. The barber shop handling is here And the tweeds, the cheviot, the Scotch Mist, And the flame orange scarf. Yet there is more-he sleeps […]...
17. The Rose Of The World Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream? For these red lips, with all their mournful pride, Mournful that no new wonder may betide, Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam, And Usna’s children died. We and the labouring world are passing by: Amid men’s souls, that waver and give place Like the pale […]...
18. The Solitary Huntsman The solitary huntsman No coat of pink doth wear, But midnight black from cap to spur Upon his midnight mare. He drones a tuneless jingle In lieu of tally-ho: “I’ll catch a fox And put him in a box And never let him go.” The solitary huntsman, He follows silent hounds. No horn proclaims his […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. The Falling Of The Leaves Autumn is over the long leaves that love us, And over the mice in the barley sheaves; Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us, And yellow the wet wild-strawberry leaves. The hour of the waning of love has beset us, And weary and worn are our sad souls now; Let us patt, ere the […]...
22. Doom and She I There dwells a mighty pair – Slow, statuesque, intense – Amid the vague Immense: None can their chronicle declare, Nor why they be, nor whence. ,h II Mother of all things made, Matchless in artistry, Unlit with sight is she. – And though her ever well-obeyed Vacant of feeling he. III The Matron mildly […]...
23. Twenty Years Hence Twenty years hence my eyes may grow If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall know Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may hap That I be called to take a nap In a cool cell where thunderclap Was never heard, There breathe but o’er my arch of […]...
24. Ordeal LOVE and pity are pleading with me this hour. What is this voice that stays me forbidding to yield, Offering beauty, love, and immortal power, Æons away in some far-off heavenly field? Though I obey thee, Immortal, my heart is sore. Though love be withdrawn for love it bitterly grieves: Pity withheld in the breast […]...
25. 489. Song-Behold, my love, how green the groves BEHOLD, my love, how green the groves, The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flowing hair. The lav’rock shuns the palace gay, And o’er the cottage sings: For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween, To Shepherds as to Kings. Let minstrels sweep the skilfu’ string, In lordly lighted […]...
26. Evening ‘Tis evening; the black snail has got on his track, And gone to its nest is the wren, And the packman snail, too, with his home on his back, Clings to the bowed bents like a wen. The shepherd has made a rude mark with his foot Where his shadow reached when he first came, […]...
27. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
28. The Years To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive, shy years, As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears. The years went by and never knew That each one brought me nearer […]...
29. Hostel Beach, Oneroa The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach, If the tide was out you’d reach a tiny bay beyond The cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete For blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood; A risky place to contemplate the games we planned, We […]...
30. Above Eurunderee There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not, On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot. Where the brooding old ridge rises up to the breeze From his dark lonely gullies of stringy-bark trees, There are voice-haunted gaps, ever sullen and strange, But Eurunderee lies like a gem in the range. Still I […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
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. 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 […]...
36. Hymn 135 The love of Christ shed abroad in the heart. Eph. 3:16ff. Come, dearest Lord, descend and dwell By faith and love in every breast; Then shall we know, and taste, and feel The joys that cannot be expressed. Come, fill our hearts with inward strength, Make our enlarged souls possess, And learn the height, and […]...
37. Life All in the dark we grope along, And if we go amiss We learn at least which path is wrong, And there is gain in this. We do not always win the race, By only running right, We have to tread the mountain’s base Before we reach its height. The Christs alone no errors made; […]...
38. Noon I bend to the ground To catch Something whispered, Urgent, drifting Across the ditches. The heaviness of Flies stuttering In orbit, dirt Ripening, the sweat Of eggs. There are Small streams The width ofa thumb Running in the villages Of sheaves, whole Eras of grain Wakening on The stalks, a roof That breathes over My […]...
39. The Maid's Lament I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet, could he speak, Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once I sought, And wearied all my thought To vex myself and him: I now would give My love […]...
40. The singing in god's acre Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God’s Acre lies, Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies. Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low, As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow, “Sleep, oh, sleep! The Shepherd guardeth His sheep. Fast speedeth the night away, Soon […]...