A Wife In London

Related poetry:

1. 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 […]...
2. A Sick Child The postman comes when I am still in bed. “Postman, what do you have for me today?” I say to him. (But really I’m in bed.) Then he says – what shall I have him say? “This letter says that you are president Of – this word here; it’s a republic.” Tell them I can’t […]...
3. Camouflage Beside the bare and beaten track of travelling flocks and herds The woodpecker went tapping on, the postman of the birds, “I’ve got a letter here,” he said, “that no one’s understood, Addressed as follows: ‘To the bird that’s like a piece of wood.’ “The soldier bird got very cross it wasn’t meant for her; […]...
4. A March Day in London The east wind blows in the street to-day; The sky is blue, yet the town looks grey. ‘Tis the wind of ice, the wind of fire, Of cold despair and of hot desire, Which chills the flesh to aches and pains, And sends a fever through all the veins. From end to end, with aimless […]...
5. On A Cape May Warbler Who Flew Against My Window She’s stopped in her southern tracks Brought haply to this hard knock When she shoots from the tall spruce And snaps her neck on the glass. From the fall grass I gather her And give her to my silent children Who give her a decent burial Under the dogwood in the garden. They lay their […]...
6. The Apology Think me not unkind and rude, That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the god of the wood To fetch his word to men. Tax not my sloth that I Fold my arms beside the brook; Each cloud that floated in the sky Writes a letter in my book. Chide me […]...
7. An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife TO these whom death again did wed This grave ‘s the second marriage-bed. For though the hand of Fate could force ‘Twixt soul and body a divorce, It could not sever man and wife, Because they both lived but one life. Peace, good reader, do not weep; Peace, the lovers are asleep. They, sweet turtles, […]...
8. In A London Square Put forth thy leaf, thou lofty plane, East wind and frost are safely gone; With zephyr mild and balmy rain The summer comes serenly on; Earth, air, and sun and skies combine To promise all that’s kind and fair:- But thou, O human heart of mine, Be still, contain thyself, and bear. December days were […]...
9. Letter To My Wife 11-11-1933 Bursa Prison My one and only! Your last letter says: “My head is throbbing, my heart is stunned!” You say: “If they hang you, if I lose you, I’ll die!” You’ll live, my dear My memory will vanish like black smoke in the wind. Of course you’ll live, red-haired lady of my heart: In […]...
10. On His Deceased Wife METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused Saint Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave, Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave, Rescu’d from death by force though pale and faint. Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint, Purification in the old Law did save, And such, as yet once more […]...
11. Jack London and O. Henry BOTH were jailbirds; no speechmakers at all; speaking best with one foot on a brass rail; a beer glass in the left hand and the right hand employed for gestures. And both were lights snuffed out… no warning… no lingering: Who knew the hearts of these boozefighters?...
12. The Soldier's Wife Weary way-wanderer languid and sick at heart Travelling painfully over the rugged road, Wild-visag’d Wanderer! ah for thy heavy chance! Sorely thy little one drags by thee bare-footed, Cold is the baby that hangs at thy bending back Meagre and livid and screaming its wretchedness. Woe-begone mother, half anger, half agony, As over thy shoulder […]...
13. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
14. To England There are no postage stamps that send letters Back to England three centuries ago, No postage stamps that make letters Travel back until the grave hasn’t been dug yet, And John Donne stands looking out the window, It is just beginning to rain this April morning, And the birds are falling into the trees Like […]...
15. On my Aunt Mrs A. K. Drown'd under London-Bridge, in the QUEENS Bardge, Anno 1641 THe Darling of a Father Good and Wise, The Vertue, which a Vertuous Age did prize; The Beauty Excellent even to those were Faire, Subscrib’d unto, by such as might compare; The Star that ‘bove her Orb did always move, And yet the Noblest did not Hate, but Love; And those who most upon their […]...
16. The Wife “Tell Annie I’ll be home in time To help her with her Christmas-tree.” That’s what he wrote, and hark! the chime Of Christmas bells, and where is he? And how the house is dark and sad, And Annie’s sobbing on my knee! The page beside the candle-flame With cruel type was overfilled; I read and […]...
17. Man And Wife Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother’s bed; The rising sun in war paint dyes us red; In broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine, Abandoned, almost Dionysian. At last the trees are green on Marlborough Street, Blossoms on our magnolia ignite The morning with their murderous five days’ white. All night I’ve held your hand, […]...
18. October Look, how those steep woods on the mountain’s face Burn, burn against the sunset; now the cold Invades our very noon: the year’s grown old, Mornings are dark, and evenings come apace. The vines below have lost their purple grace, And in Forreze the white wrack backward rolled, Hangs to the hills tempestuous, fold on […]...
19. The Sun kept stooping stooping low! The Sun kept stooping stooping low! The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose! Deeper and deeper grew the stain Upon the window pane Thicker and thicker stood the feet Until the Tyrian Was crowded dense with Armies So gay, so Brigadier That I felt martial stirrings […]...
20. The Wife of Flanders Low and brown barns, thatched and repatched and tattered, Where I had seven sons until to-day, A little hill of hay your spur has scattered. . . . This is not Paris. You have lost your way. You, staring at your sword to find it brittle, Surprised at the surprise that was your plan, Who, […]...
21. His Wife, The Painter There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks, And outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like Insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev, Says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too. “I am going to do her portrait on the 28th, while you are At work.” He […]...
22. Pilate's Wife's Dream I’ve quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall­ The crash blent with my sleep, I saw depart Its light, even as I woke, on yonder wall; Over against my bed, there shone a gleam Strange, faint, and mingling also with my dream. It sunk, and […]...
23. Any Wife To Any Husband I My love, this is the bitterest, that thou Who art all truth and who dost love me now As thine eyes say, as thy voice breaks to say – Shouldst love so truly and couldst love me still A whole long life through, had but love its will, Would death that leads me from […]...
24. At the War Office, London I Last year I called this world of gain-givings The darkest thinkable, and questioned sadly If my own land could heave its pulse less gladly, So charged it seemed with circumstance whence springs The tragedy of things. II Yet at that censured time no heart was rent Or feature blanched of parent, wife, or daughter […]...
25. Letter Of Recommendation From My Father To My Future Wife During the war, I was in China. Every night we blew the world to hell. The sky was purple and yellow Like his favorite shirt. I was in India once On the Ganges in a tourist boat. There were soldiers, Some women with parasols. A dead body floated by Going in the opposite direction. My […]...
26. Contrasts I see the tall church steeples, They reach so far, so far, But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart, Where the starving people are. I hear the church bells ringing Their chimes on the morning air; But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear The poor man’s cry of despair. […]...
27. Spring Wind in London I Blow across the stagnant world, I blow across the sea, For me, the sailor’s flag unfurled, For me, the uprooted tree. My challenge to the world is hurled; The world must bow to me. I drive the clouds across the sky, I huddle them like sheep; Merciless shepherd-dog am I And shepherd-watch I keep. […]...
28. Firelight Ten years together without yet a cloud, They seek each other’s eyes at intervals Of gratefulness to firelight and four walls For love’s obliteration of the crowd. Serenely and perennially endowed And bowered as few may be, their joy recalls No snake, no sword; and over them there falls The blessing of what neither says […]...
29. Orinda To Lucasia Parting October 1661 At London Adieu dear object of my Love’s excess, And with thee all my hopes of happiness, With the same fervent and unchanged heart Which did it’s whole self once to thee impart, (And which though fortune has so sorely bruis’d, Would suffer more, to be from this excus’d) I to resign thy dear Converse submit, Since […]...
30. The Ivy-Wife I LONGED to love a full-boughed beech And be as high as he: I stretched an arm within his reach, And signalled unity. But with his drip he forced a breach, And tried to poison me. I gave the grasp of partnership To one of other race A plane: he barked him strip by strip […]...
31. Confetti In The Wind He wrote a letter in his mind To answer one a maid had sent; He sought the fitting word to find, As on by hill and rill he went. By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane, The cadence sweet and silken phrase He incubated in his brain For days and days. He wrote his letter on […]...
32. An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly Stretch’d in a bed of clay, whose charity Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme He keepes those warme that else would sue to thee, Even thee, to ease them of theyr penury. Sorrow I would, but […]...
33. At Home When I was dead, my spirit turned To seek the much-frequented house: I passed the door, and saw my friends Feasting beneath green orange boughs; From hand to hand they pushed the wine, They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; They sang, they jested, and they laughed, For each was loved of each. I […]...
34. 370. Song-Sic a Wife as Willie had WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster gude, Could stown a clue wi’ ony body: He had a wife was dour and din, O Tinkler Maidgie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gie a button for her! She has an e’e, […]...
35. The Wife of Bath's Tale THE PROLOGUE. 1 Experience, though none authority* *authoritative texts Were in this world, is right enough for me To speak of woe that is in marriage: For, lordings, since I twelve year was of age, (Thanked be God that *is etern on live),* *lives eternally* Husbands at the church door have I had five,2 For […]...
36. Lord Walter's Wife I ‘But where do you go?’ said the lady, while both sat under the yew, And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue. II ‘Because I fear you,’ he answered; ‘because you are far too fair, And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.’ […]...
37. London Voluntaries IV: Out of the Poisonous East Out of the poisonous East, Over a continent of blight, Like a maleficent Influence released From the most squalid cellerage of hell, The Wind-Fiend, the abominable The Hangman Wind that tortures temper and light Comes slouching, sullen and obscene, Hard on the skirts of the embittered night; And in a cloud unclean Of excremental humours, […]...
38. Submergence When along the pavement, Palpitating flames of life, People flicker round me, I forget my bereavement, The gap in the great constellation, The place where a star used to be. Nay, though the pole-star Is blown out like a candle, And all the heavens are wandering in disarray, Yet when pleiads of people are Deployed […]...
39. The Wife's Will SIT still­a word­a breath may break (As light airs stir a sleeping lake,) The glassy calm that soothes my woes, The sweet, the deep, the full repose. O leave me not! for ever be Thus, more than life itself to me! Yes, close beside thee, let me kneel­ Give me thy hand that I may […]...
40. Ashes Of Life Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike; Eat I must, and sleep I will,-and would that night were here! But ah!-to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike! Would that it were day again!-with twilight near! Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do; […]...