Home ⇒ 📌Thomas Hardy ⇒ The Selfsame Song
The Selfsame Song
A bird sings the selfsame song,
With never a fault in its flow,
That we listened to here those long
Long years ago.
A pleasing marvel is how
A strain of such rapturous rote
Should have gone on thus till now
Unchanged in a note!
But its not the selfsame bird.
No: perished to dust is he….
As also are those who heard
That song with me.
(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Critic and Poet: an Epilogue No man had ever heard a nightingale, When once a keen-eyed naturalist was stirred To study and define what is a bird, To classify by rote and book, nor fail To mark its structure and to note the scale Whereon its song might possibly be heard. Thus far, no farther; so he spake the word. […]...
- Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird I consider a song will be as humming-bird Swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange As the world of anti-matter Where they are wondering: does time run backward— Which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple; But can Henry write it? Wreckt, in deep danger, he shook once his head, Returning to meditation. And word had sped All […]...
- Under The Balcony O beautiful star with the crimson mouth! O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the odorous south! And light for my love her way, Lest her little feet should stray On the windy hill and the wold! O beautiful star with the crimson mouth! O moon with the brows of […]...
- In A Museum I Here’s the mould of a musical bird long passed from light, Which over the earth before man came was winging; There’s a contralto voice I heard last night, That lodges with me still in its sweet singing. II Such a dream is Time that the coo of this ancient bird Has perished not, but […]...
- Siren Song This is the one song everyone Would like to learn: the song That is irresistible: The song that forces men To leap overboard in squadrons Even though they see the beached skulls The song nobody knows Because anyone who has heard it Is dead, and the others can’t remember. Shall I tell you the secret […]...
- Life In A Love Escape me? Never – Beloved! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear – It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though […]...
- 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 […]...
- Shelley's Skylark (The neighbourhood of Leghorn: March) Somewhere afield here something lies In Earth’s oblivious eyeless trust That moved a poet to prophecies – A pinch of unseen, unguarded dust The dust of the lark that Shelley heard, And made immortal through times to be; – Though it only lived like another bird, And knew not its immortality. Lived its meek life; […]...
- Sonnet XLII: Some Men There Be Some men there be which like my method well And much commend the strangeness of my vein; Some say I have a passing pleasing strain; Some say that im my humor I excel; Some, who not kindly relish my conceit, They say, as poets do, I use to feign, And in bare words paint out […]...
- Qua Cursum Ventus As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail at dawn of day Are scarce long leagues apart descried; When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, And all the darkling hours they plied, Nor dreamt but each the selfsame seas By each was cleaving, side by side: […]...
- The Aim was Song Before man came to blow it right The wind once blew itself untaught, And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught. Man came to tell it what was wrong: I hadn’t found the place to blow; It blew too hard the aim was song. And listen how it ought […]...
- Dream Song 18: A Strut for Roethke Westward, hit a low note, for a roarer lost Across the Sound but north from Bremerton, Hit a way down note. And never cadenza again of flowers, or cost. Him who could really do that cleared his throat & staggered on. The bluebells, pool-shallows, saluted his over-needs, While the clouds growled, heh-heh, & snapped, & […]...
- Dream Song 130: When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake up. That was more years ago Than I care to reckon, and my friend is not Dying but adhering to an élite group In California O. Why did I never wake, when covered with blood […]...
- The Two Men THERE were two youths of equal age, Wit, station, strength, and parentage; They studied at the self-same schools, And shaped their thoughts by common rules. One pondered on the life of man, His hopes, his endings, and began To rate the Market’s sordid war As something scarce worth living for. “I’ll brace to higher aims,” […]...
- 390. Song-A Health to them that's awa HERE’S a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa; And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause, May never gude luck be their fa’! It’s gude to be merry and wise, It’s gude to be honest and true; It’s gude to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the buff […]...
- 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 […]...
- The Song Of Princess Zeb-Un-Nissa In Praise Of Her Own Beauty WHEN from my cheek I lift my veil, The roses turn with envy pale, And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain, Send forth their fragrance like a wail. Or if perchance one perfumed tress Be lowered to the wind’s caress, The honeyed hyacinths complain, And languish in a sweet distress. And, when I pause, […]...
- A Ballad of Dreamland I hid my heart in a nest of roses, Out of the sun’s way, hidden apart; In a softer bed then the soft white snow’s is, Under the roses I hid my heart. Why would it sleep not? why should it start, When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred? What made sleep flutter his […]...
- 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 […]...
- When on a Summer's Morn When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in […]...
- Song For The Severed Head In 'The King Of The Great Clock Tower' Saddle and ride, I heard a man say, Out of Ben Bulben and Knocknarea, What says the Clock in the Great Clock Tower? All those tragic characters ride But turn from Rosses’ crawling tide, The meet’s upon the mountain-side. A slow low note and an iron bell. What brought them there so far from their […]...
- The Year's Awakening How do you know that the pilgrim track Along the belting zodiac Swept by the sun in his seeming rounds Is traced by now to the Fishes’ bounds And into the Ram, when weeks of cloud Have wrapt the sky in a clammy shroud, And never as yet a tinct of spring Has shown in […]...
- 65. Song-Rantin, Rovin Robin THERE 1 was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor.-Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, rantin’, rovin’, Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, Robin! Our monarch’s hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days begun, […]...
- 289. Song-Awa', Whigs, Awa' Chorus.-Awa’ Whigs, awa’! Awa’ Whigs, awa’! Ye’re but a pack o’ traitor louns, Ye’ll do nae gude at a’. OUR thrissles flourish’d fresh and fair, And bonie bloom’d our roses; But Whigs cam’ like a frost in June, An’ wither’d a’ our posies. Awa’ Whigs, &c. Our ancient crown’s fa’en in the dust- Deil blin’ […]...
- The Necessitarian I know not in Whose hands are laid To empty upon earth From unsuspected ambuscade The very Urns of Mirth; Who bids the Heavenly Lark arise And cheer our solemn round The Jest beheld with streaming eyes And grovellings on the ground; Who joins the flats of Time and Chance Behind the prey preferred, And […]...
- The Power Of Song The foaming stream from out the rock With thunder roar begins to rush, The oak falls prostrate at the shock, And mountain-wrecks attend the gush. With rapturous awe, in wonder lost, The wanderer hearkens to the sound; From cliff to cliff he hears it tossed, Yet knows not whither it is bound: ‘Tis thus that […]...
- A Song at Shannon's Two men came out of Shannon’s, having known The faces of each other for so long As they had listened there to an old song, Sung thinly in a wastrel monotone By some unhappy night-bird, who had flown Too many times and with a wing too strong To save himself; and so done heavy wrong […]...
- A Song at Weicheng A morning-rain has settled the dust in Weicheng; Willows are green again in the tavern dooryard…. Wait till we empty one more cup West of Yang Gate there’ll be no old friends....
- My Song This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like The fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of Blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in Your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence […]...
- As from the earth the light Balloon As from the earth the light Balloon Asks nothing but release Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust That fastened it so long With indignation, As a Bird Defrauded of its song....
- Song Wintah, summah, snow er shine, Hit’s all de same to me, Ef only I kin call you mine, An’ keep you by my knee. Ha’dship, frolic, grief er caih, Content by night an’ day, Ef only I kin see you whaih You wait beside de way. Livin’, dyin’, smiles er teahs, My soul will still […]...
- Song's Eternity What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Can it noise and bustle be? Come and see. Praises sung or praises said Can it be? Wait awhile and these are dead – Sigh, sigh; Be they high or lowly bred They die. What is song’s eternity? Come and see. Melodies of earth and sky, Here they […]...
- The First Thrush Though leaves have fallen long since, The wagtails flirt and flit, Glad in the morning sun; While, on the knotted quince, The dewdrops, pearled on it, Bead to a little run. . . . Soft as a breathing air There came a lovely sound Out of the branches bare; So rich it was, and round, […]...
- Song (Go And Catch A Falling Star) Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the Devil’s foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy’s stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be’st born to strange sights, Things […]...
- A Gardener-Sage Here in the garden-bed, Hoeing the celery, Wonders the Lord has made Pass ever before me. I see the young birds build, And swallows come and go, And summer grow and gild, And winter die in snow. Many a thing I note, And store it in my mind, For all my ragged coat That scarce […]...
- To The Nightingale Exert thy Voice, sweet Harbinger of Spring! This Moment is thy Time to sing, This Moment I attend to Praise, And set my Numbers to thy Layes. Free as thine shall be my Song; As thy Musick, short, or long. Poets, wild as thee, were born, Pleasing best when unconfin’d, When to Please is least […]...
- Song. Murdering Beauty I’LL gaze no more on her bewitching face, Since ruin harbours there in every place ; For my enchanted soul alike she drowns With calms and tempests of her smiles and frowns. I’ll love no more those cruel eyes of hers, Which, pleased or anger’d, still are murderers : For if she dart, like lightning, […]...
- George Meredith Forty years back, when much had place That since has perished out of mind, I heard that voice and saw that face. He spoke as one afoot will wind A morning horn ere men awake; His note was trenchant, turning kind. He was one of those whose wit can shake And riddle to the very […]...
- 233. Song-O were I on Parnassus Hill O, WERE I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee! But Nith maun be my Muse’s well, My Muse maun be thy bonie sel’, On Corsincon I’ll glowr and spell, And write how dear I love thee. Then come, sweet […]...
- 194. Song-Blythe was She Chorus.-Blythe, blythe and merry was she, Blythe was she but and ben; Blythe by the banks of Earn, And blythe in Glenturit glen. BY 1 Oughtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow banks the birken shaw; But Phemie was a bonier lass Than braes o’ Yarrow ever saw. Blythe, blythe, &c. Her looks were like a […]...