The Cave Of The Unborn

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1. Allegory Of The Cave He climbed toward the blinding light And when his eyes adjusted He looked down and could see His fellow prisoners captivated By shadows; everything he had believed Was false. And he was suddenly In the 20th century, in the sunlight And violence of history, encumbered By knowledge. Only a hero Would dare return with the […]...
2. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
3. My Cross I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone would praise a bit Its purity and grace forlone, Its beauty tulip-cool… But as my poem died still-born, I felt a fool. I wrote a verse of vulgar trend Spiced with an oath or two; […]...
4. To An Unborn Pauper Child Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently, And though thy birth-hour beckons thee, Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here, And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear. Hark, how the peoples surge and sigh, And laughters fail, and greetings die; Hopes dwindle; yea, Faiths waste away, Affections and enthusiasms numb: […]...
5. In The Naked Bed, In Plato's Cave In the naked bed, in Plato’s cave, Reflected headlights slowly slid the wall, Carpenters hammered under the shaded window, Wind troubled the window curtains all night long, A fleet of trucks strained uphill, grinding, Their freights covered, as usual. The ceiling lightened again, the slanting diagram Slid slowly forth. Hearing the milkman’s clop, His striving […]...
6. Heritage Now the dead past seems vividly alive, And in this shining moment I can trace, Down through the vista of the vanished years, Your faun-like form, your fond elusive face. And suddenly some secret spring’s released, And unawares a riddle is revealed, And I can read like large, black-lettered print, What seemed before a thing […]...
7. Sonnet XXVIII: You That With Allegory's Curious Frame You that with allegory’s curious frame, Of others’ children changelings use to make, With me those pains for God’s sake do not take: I list not dig so deep for brazen fame. When I say “Stella,” I do mean the same Princess of Beauty, for whose only sake The reins of Love I love, though […]...
8. Sonnet LXIV: No More, My Dear No more, my dear, no more these counsels try; Oh, give my passions leave to run their race; Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace; Let folk o’ercharg’d with brain against me cry; Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye; Let me no steps but of lost labour trace; Let all the […]...
9. One Of Us Two The day will dawn when one of us shall hearken In vain to hear a voice that has grown dumb. And morns will fade, noons pale, and shadows darken, While sad eyes watch for feet that never come. One of us two must sometime face existence Alone with the memories that but sharpen pain. And […]...
10. How News must feel when travelling How News must feel when travelling If News have any Heart Alighting at the Dwelling ‘Twill enter like a Dart! What News must think when pondering If News have any Thought Concerning the stupendousness Of its perceiveless freight! What News will do when every Man Shall comprehend as one And not in all the Universe […]...
11. The Spirit Of The Unborn Babe The Spirit of the Unborn Babe peered through the window-pane, Peered through the window-pane that glowed like beacon in the night; For, oh, the sky was desolate and wild with wind and rain; And how the little room was crammed with coziness and light! Except the flirting of the fire there was no sound at […]...
12. Loving In Truth, And Fain In Verse My Love To Show Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That She, dear She, might take some pleasure of my pain, -Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain – I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, Studying inventions fine, […]...
13. Sonnet I: Loving In Truth Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she (dear She) might take some pleasure of my pain: Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain; I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe, Studying inventions fine, her […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. The Unborn Sometimes I can almost see, around our heads, Like gnats around a streetlight in summer, The children we could have, The glimmer of them. Sometimes I feel them waiting, dozing In some antechamber – servants, half- Listening for the bell. Sometimes I see them lying like love letters In the Dead Letter Office And sometimes, […]...
16. Astrophel and Stella: I ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: I Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show, That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain, Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know, Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain, I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe; […]...
17. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
18. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
19. THE CRUEL MAID AND, cruel maid, because I see You scornful of my love, and me, I’ll trouble you no more, but go My way, where you shall never know What is become of me; there I Will find me out a path to die, Or learn some way how to forget You and your name for ever; […]...
20. 425. Song-Had I a cave HAD I a cave on some wild distant shore, Where the winds howl to the wave’s dashing roar: There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close, Ne’er to wake more! Falsest of womankind, can’st thou declare All thy fond, plighted vows fleeting as air! To thy […]...
21. Mirage The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree, A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silent harp there, wrung and snapped For a dream’s sake. Lie still, lie […]...
22. The Opal Dream Cave In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal […]...
23. When I read the Book WHEN I read the book, the biography famous, And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life? And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life? (As if any man really knew aught of my life; Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or […]...
24. Impotens If I were a woman of old, What prayers I would pray for you, dear; My pitiful tribute behold Not a prayer, but a tear. The pitiless order of things, Whose laws we may change not nor break, Alone I could face it it wrings My heart for your sake....
25. Lines Inscribed on The Wall of a Dungeon in The Southern P of I Though not a breath can enter here, I know the wind blows fresh and free; I know the sun is shining clear, Though not a gleam can visit me. They thought while I in darkness lay, ‘Twere pity that I should not know How all the earth is smiling gay; How fresh the vernal breezes […]...
26. Sonnet LII: What? Dost Thou Mean What? Dost thou mean to cheat me of my heart? To take all mine and give me none again? Or have thine eyes such magic or that art That what they get they ever do retain? Play not the tyrant, but take some remorse; Rebate thy spleen, if but for pity’s sake; Or, cruel, if […]...
27. Song For The Last Act Now that I have your face by heart, I look Less at its features than its darkening frame Where quince and melon, yellow as young flame, Lie with quilled dahlias and the shepherd’s crook. Beyond, a garden, There, in insolent ease The lead and marble figures watch the show Of yet another summer loath to […]...
28. Individuality Ah yes, I love you, and with all my heart; Just as a weaker woman loves her own, Better than I love my beloved art, Which, until you came, reigned royally, alone, My king, my master. Since I saw your face I have dethroned it, and you hold that place. I am as weak as […]...
29. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
30. A Tragedy Among his books he sits all day To think and read and write; He does not smell the new-mown hay, The roses red and white. I walk among them all alone, His silly, stupid wife; The world seems tasteless, dead and done – An empty thing is life. At night his window casts a square […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. Psalm 77 part 1 Melancholy assaulting, and hope prevailing. To God I cried with mournful voice, I sought his gracious ear, In the sad day when troubles rose, And filled the night with fear. Sad were my days, and dark my nights, My soul refused relief; I thought on God the just and wise, But thoughts increased my grief. […]...
33. Lobster For Lunch His face was like a lobster red, His legs were white as mayonnaise: “I’ve had a jolly lunch,” he said, That Englishman of pleasant ways. “Thy do us well at our hotel: In England food is dull these days.” “We had a big langouste for lunch. I almost ate the whole of it. And now […]...
34. Parting Address From Z. Z. To A. E O weep not, love! each tear that springs In those dear eyes of thine, To me a keener suffering brings Than if they flowed from mine. And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee. For my sake, combat pain and care, And cherish life for me! I do not fear thy love will […]...
35. Stanzas Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs In those dear eyes of thine, To me a keener suffering brings, Than if they flowed from mine. And do not droop! however drear The fate awaiting thee; For my sake combat pain and care, And cherish life for me! I do not fear thy love will […]...
36. O World, be Nobler O WORLD, be nobler, for her sake! If she but knew thee what thou art, What wrongs are borne, what deeds are done In thee, beneath thy daily sun, Know’st thou not that her tender heart For pain and very shame would break? O World, be nobler, for her sake!...
37. To An Old Mate Old Mate! In the gusty old weather, When our hopes and our troubles were new, In the years spent in wearing out leather, I found you unselfish and true I have gathered these verses together For the sake of our friendship and you. You may think for awhile, and with reason, Though still with a […]...
38. Count That Day Lost If you sit down at set of sun And count the acts that you have done, And, counting, find One self-denying deed, one word That eased the heart of him who heard, One glance most kind That fell like sunshine where it went Then you may count that day well spent. But if, through all […]...
39. The most pathetic thing I do The most pathetic thing I do Is play I hear from you I make believe until my Heart Almost believes it too But when I break it with the news You knew it was not true I wish I had not broken it Goliah so would you...
40. A Pretty Woman I That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers, And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of hers! II To think men cannot take you, Sweet, And enfold you, Ay, and hold you, And so keep you what they make you, Sweet! III You like us for a glance, you know – For […]...