Ne'er Ask the Hour

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1. Last Curtain I know that the day will come When my sight of this earth shall be lost, And life will take its leave in silence, Drawing the last curtain over my eyes. Yet stars will watch at night, And morning rise as before, And hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. When I […]...
2. The Hour of Twilight WHEN the unquiet hours depart And far away their tumults cease, Within the twilight of the heart We bathe in peace, are stilled with peace. The fire that slew us through the day For angry deed or sin of sense Now is the star and homeward ray To us who bow in penitence. We kiss […]...
3. Twenty Four Hour Embrace Awakening In the twenty four hour embrace of a few moments sleep, Where half a lifetime eludes dreams; And feeling you were cheated By too much gin and lack of sleep In these unconsummated fumblings. Reunions of this passion seem anomalous, Do we feed self-interests which destroy its mutuality? To cling together is a punishment […]...
4. Farewell! But Whenever You Welcome the Hour Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you. His griefs may return, not a hope may remain Of the few that have brighten’d his pathway of pain, […]...
5. The Pleasures Of Friendship The pleasures of friendship are exquisite, How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit! I go to my friend, we walk on the grass, And the hours and moments like minutes pass....
6. My Hour Day after day behold me plying My pen within an office drear; The dullest dog, till homeward hieing, Then lo! I reign a king of cheer. A throne have I of padded leather, A little court of kiddies three, A wife who smiles whate’er the weather, A feast of muffins, jam and tea. The table […]...
7. A Week Later A week later, I said to a friend: I don’t Think I could ever write about it. Maybe in a year I could write something. There is something in me maybe someday To be written; now it is folded, and folded, And folded, like a note in school. And in my dream Someone was playing […]...
8. The Dark Hour And now, when merry winds do blow, And rain makes trees look fresh, An overpowering staleness holds This mortal flesh. Though well I love to feel the rain, And be by winds well blown The mystery of mortal life Doth press me down. And, In this mood, come now what will, Shine Rainbow, Cuckoo call; […]...
9. One Bumper at Parting One bumper at parting! though many Have circled the board since we met, The fullest, the saddest of any Remains to be crown’d by us yet. The sweetness that pleasure hath in it Is always so slow to come forth, That seldom, alas, till the minute It dies, do we know half its worth. But […]...
10. Villanelle: The Psychological Hour I had over prepared the event, That much was ominous. With middle-ageing care I had laid out just the right books. I had almost turned down the pages. Beauty is so rare a thing. So few drink of my fountain. So much barren regret, So many hours wasted! And now I watch, from the window, […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. The Hour-glass That hour-glass which there you see With water fill’d, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th’ upper to the under-glass, Do in a trickling manner tell, By many a watery syllable, That lovers’ tears in lifetime shed Do […]...
13. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, and […]...
14. How Dear to Me the Hour How dear to me the hour when daylight dies, And sunbeams melt along the silent sea, For then sweet dreams of other days arise, And memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave toward the burning west, I long to tread that […]...
15. Counting The Beats You, love, and I, (He whispers) you and I, And if no more than only you and I What care you or I? Counting the beats, Counting the slow heart beats, The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats, Wakeful they lie. Cloudless day, Night, and a cloudless day; Yet the huge storm […]...
16. There comes an hour when begging stops There comes an hour when begging stops, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer is vain. “Thou shalt not” is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God “Disciple, call again.”...
17. Bridal Song CYNTHIA, to thy power and thee We obey. Joy to this great company! And no day Come to steal this night away Till the rites of love are ended, And the lusty bridegroom say, Welcome, light, of all befriended! Pace out, you watery powers below; Let your feet, Like the galleys when they row, Even […]...
18. From This Hour the Pledge is Given From this hour the pledge is given, From this hour my soul is thine: Come what will, from earth of heaven, Weal or woe, thy fate be mine. When the proud and great stood by thee, None dared thy rights to spurn; And if now they’re false and fly thee, Shall I, too, falsely turn? […]...
19. Skunk Hour For Elizabeth Bishop Nautilus Island’s hermit Heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; Her sheep still graze above the sea. Her son’s a bishop. Her farmer Is first selectman in our village, She’s in her dotage. Thirsting for The hierarchic privacy Of Queen Victoria’s century, She buys up all The eyesores facing her […]...
20. In the Morning of Life In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own, And the light that surrounds us is all from within; Oh ’tis not, believe me, in that happy time We can love, as in hours of […]...
21. Dawn STILL as the holy of holies breathes the vast, Within its crystal depths the stars grow dim; Fire on the altar of the hills at last Burns on the shadowy rim. Moment that holds all moments; white upon The verge it trembles; then like mists of flowers Break from the fairy fountain of the dawn […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Eleventh Hour The bloom was off the economic recovery. “I just want to know one thing,” she said. What was that one thing? He’ll never know, Because at just that moment he heard the sound Of broken glass in the bathroom, and when he got there, It was dark. His hand went to the wall But the […]...
24. The Hour Before Dawn A cursing rogue with a merry face, A bundle of rags upon a crutch, Stumbled upon that windy place Called Cruachan, and it was as much As the one sturdy leg could do To keep him upright while he cursed. He had counted, where long years ago Queen Maeve’s nine Maines had been nursed, A […]...
25. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
26. A Word for the Hour The firmament breaks up. In black eclipse Light after light goes out. One evil star, Luridly glaring through the smoke of war, As in the dream of the Apocalypse, Drags others down. Let us not weakly weep Nor rashly threaten. Give us grace to keep Our faith and patience; wherefore should we leap On one […]...
27. The Soul has Bandaged moments The Soul has Bandaged moments When too appalled to stir She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her Salute her with long fingers Caress her freezing hair Sip, Goblin, from the very lips The Lover hovered o’er Unworthy, that a thought so mean Accost a Theme so fair The soul […]...
28. 24. Song-No Churchman am I NO churchman am I for to rail and to write, No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight, No sly man of business contriving a snare, For a big-belly’d bottle’s the whole of my care. The peer I don’t envy, I give him his bow; I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low; […]...
29. Fill the Bumper Fair Fill the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O’er the brow of Care Smooths away a wrinkle. Wit’s electric flame Ne’er so swiftly passes, As when through the frame It shoots from brimming glasses. Fill the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O’er the brow of Care Smooths away a wrinkle. Sages can, they say, […]...
30. At the Mid Hour of Night At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love […]...
31. Leisure Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone age, When hours were long and days sufficed to hold Wide-eyed delights and pleasures uncontrolled By shortening moments, when no gaunt presage Of undone duties, modern heritage, Haunted our happy minds; must thou withhold Thy presence from this over-busy world, And bearing silence with thee disengage Our twined fortunes? […]...
32. The Hour of the King WHO would think this quiet breather From the world had taken flight? Yet within the form we see there Wakes the Golden King to-night. Out upon the face of faces He looked forth before his sleep: Now he knows the starry races Haunters of the ancient deep. On the Bird of Diamond Glory Floats in […]...
33. The Night Dance Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high, And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean, Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye, Obey the mute call, and heave into motion. Then, sound notes the gayest, the lightest, That ever took wing, when heaven look’d […]...
34. Sonnet XLIII: Why Should Your Fair Eyes Why should your fair eyes with such sovereign grace Disperse their rays on every vulgar spirit, Whilst I in darkness, in the self-same place, Get not one glance to recompense my merit? So doth the plowman gaze the wand’ring star, And only rest contented with the light, That never learn’d what constellations are Beyond the […]...
35. The Mocking Fairy ‘Won’t you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?’ Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; ‘Can’t you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?’ Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden; But the air was still, the cherry boughs were still, And the ivy-tod neath the empty sill, And never from her […]...
36. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
37. The Negro Boy Paupertas onus visa est grave. Cold blows the wind, and while the tear Bursts trembling from my swollen eyes, The rain’s big drop, quick meets it there, And on my naked bosom flies! O pity, all ye sons of Joy, The little wand’ring Negro-boy. These tatter’d clothes, this ice-cold breast By Winter harden’d into steel, […]...
38. Quick! We Have But a Second Quick! we have but a second, Fill round the cup while you may; For time, the churl, hath beckon’d, And we must away, away! Grasp the pleasure that’s flying, For oh, not Orpheus’ strain Could keep sweet hours from dying, Or charm them to life again. Then, quick! we have but a second, Fill round […]...
39. A Winter Ride Who shall declare the joy of the running! Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight! Springing and spurning the tufts of wild heather, Sweeping, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light. Everything mortal has moments immortal, Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright. So with the stretch of the white road before me, Shining snowcrystals rainbowed […]...
40. The Mountain Sprite In yonder valley there dwelt, alone, A youth, whose moments had calmly flown, ‘Till spells came o’er him, and, day and night, He was haunted and watch’d by a Mountain Sprite. As once, by moonlight, he wander’d o’er The golden sands of that Island shore, A foot-print sparkled before his sight ‘Twas the fairy foot […]...