Oh, the Sight Entrancing
Oh, the sight entrancing,
When morning’s beam is glancing
O’er files array’d
With helm and blade,
And plumes in the gay wind dancing!
When hearts are all high beating
And the trumpet’s voice repeating
That song, whose breath
May lead to death,
But never to entreating.
Oh, the sight entrancing,
When morning’s beam is glancing
O’er files array’d
With helm and blade,
And plumes in the gay wind dancing!
Yet, tis not helm or feather
For ask yon despot, whether
His plumed bands
Could bring such hands
And hearts as ours together.
Leave pomps to those who need ’em
Give man but heart and freedom,
And proud he braves
The gaudiest slaves
That crawl where monarchs lead ’em.
The sword may pierce the beaver,
Stonewalls in time may sever,
‘Tis mind alone,
Worth steel and stone,
That keeps men free for ever.
Oh, that sight entrancing,
When the morning’s beam is glancing,
O’er files array’d
With helm and blade,
And in Freedom’s cause advancing!
Related poetry:
- There are two Ripenings one of sight There are two Ripenings one of sight Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground A homelier maturing A process in the Bur That teeth of Frosts alone disclose In far October Air....
- Best Things dwell out of Sight Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl the Just Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare The Capsule of the Wind The Capsule of the Mind Exhibit here, as doth a Burr Germ’s Germ be where?...
- Out of Sight They held a polo meeting at a little country town, And all the local sportsmen came to win themselves renown. There came two strangers with a horse, and I am much afraid They both belonged to what is called “the take-you-down brigade”. They said their horse could jump like fun, and asked an amateur To […]...
- A Memory YOU remember, dear, together Two children, you and I, Sat once in the autumn weather, Watching the autumn sky. There was some one round us straying The whole of the long day through, Who seemed to say, “I am playing At hide and seek with you.” And one thing after another Was whispered out of […]...
- Out of sight? What of that? Out of sight? What of that? See the Bird reach it! Curve by Curve Sweep by Sweep Round the Steep Air Danger! What is that to Her? Better ’tis to fail there Than debate here Blue is Blue the World through Amber Amber Dew Dew Seek Friend and see Heaven is shy of Earth that’s […]...
- Sonnet II: Not At First Sight Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed; But known worth did in mine of time proceed, Till by degrees it had full conquest got: I saw and liked, I liked but loved not; I lov’d, but straight did not what Love decreed. At […]...
- I Knew A Man By Sight I knew a man by sight, A blameless wight, Who, for a year or more, Had daily passed my door, Yet converse none had had with him. I met him in a lane, Him and his cane, About three miles from home, Where I had chanced to roam, And volumes stared at him, and he […]...
- Long Sight In Age They say eyes clear with age, As dew clarifies air To sharpen evenings, As if time put an edge Round the last shape of things To show them there; The many-levelled trees, The long soft tides of grass Wrinkling away the gold Wind-ridden waves – all these, They say, come back to focus As we […]...
- A Sight in Camp A SIGHT in camp in the day-break grey and dim, As from my tent I emerge so early, sleepless, As slow I walk in the cool fresh air, the path near by the hospital tent, Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there, untended lying, Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woollen […]...
- Paula NOTHING else in this song-only your face. Nothing else here-only your drinking, night-gray eyes. The pier runs into the lake straight as a rifle barrel. I stand on the pier and sing how I know you mornings. It is not your eyes, your face, I remember. It is not your dancing, race-horse feet. It is […]...
- Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sighing: No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses, Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn! No more will the wild wind that passes Return, no more return....
- Danny Deever “What are the bugles blowin’ for?” said Files-on-Parade. “To turn you out, to turn you out”, the Colour-Sergeant said. “What makes you look so white, so white?” said Files-on-Parade. “I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch”, the Colour-Sergeant said. For they’re hangin’ Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment’s in ‘ollow […]...
- First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
- Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze; For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas. The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing, The bare trees are tossing their branches on high; The dead […]...
- When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow When smoke stood up from Ludlow, And mist blew off from Teme, And blithe afield to ploughing Against the morning beam I strode beside my team, The blackbird in the coppice Looked out to see me stride, And hearkened as I whistled The trampling team beside, And fluted and replied: “Lie down, lie down, young […]...
- Sight Unseemly are the open eyes That watch the midnight sheep, That look upon the secret skies Nor close, abashed, in sleep; That see the dawn drag in, unbidden, To birth another day- Oh, better far their gaze were hidden Below the decent clay....
- Wind He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea, He steals the down from the honeybee, He makes the forest trees rustle and sing, He twirls my kite till it breaks its string. Laughing, dancing, sunny wind, Whistling, howling, rainy wind, North, South, East and West, Each is the wind I like the best. […]...
- The Call of the Winds Ho, come out with the wind of spring, And step it blithely in woodlands waking; Friend am I of each growing thing From the gray sod into sunshine breaking; Mine is the magic of twilights dim, Of violets blue on the still pool’s rim, Mine is the breath of the blossoms young Sweetest of fragrances […]...
- Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight? It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stripped, long ere the course begin, We wish that one should love, the other win; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect: The reason no man knows; […]...
- The Children Dancing Away, sad thoughts, and teasing Perplexities, away! Let other blood go freezing, We will be wise and gay. For here is all heart-easing, An ecstasy at play. The children dancing, dancing, Light upon happy feet, Both eye and heart entrancing Mingle, escape, and meet; Come joyous-eyed and advancing Or floatingly retreat. Now slow, now swifter […]...
- Battalion-Relief ‘FALL in! Now get a move on.’ (Curse the rain.) We splash away along the straggling village, Out to the flat rich country, green with June… And sunset flares across wet crops and tillage, Blazing with splendour-patches. (Harvest soon, Up in the Line.) ‘Perhaps the War’ll be done ‘By Christmas-Day. Keep smiling then, old son.’ […]...
- THANKS HER griefs were the hours When my struggle was sore, Her joys were the powers That the climber upbore. Her home is the boundless Free ocean that seems To rock, calm and soundless, My galleon of dreams. Half hers are the glancing Creations that throng With pageant and dancing The ways of my song. My […]...
- Room 5: The Concert Singer I’m one of these haphazard chaps Who sit in cafes drinking; A most improper taste, perhaps, Yet pleasant, to my thinking. For, oh, I hate discord and strife; I’m sadly, weakly human; And I do think the best of life Is wine and song and woman. Now, there’s that youngster on my right Who thinks […]...
- My Indian In-laws I remember India: Palm trees, monkey families, Fresh lime juice in the streets, The sensual inundation Of sights and smells And excess in everything. I was exotic and believable there. I was walking through dirt In my sari, To temples of the deities Following the lead Of my Indian in-laws. I was scooping up fire […]...
- The Broncho That Would Not Be Broken A little colt – broncho, loaned to the farm To be broken in time without fury or harm, Yet black crows flew past you, shouting alarm, Calling “Beware,” with lugubrious singing… The butterflies there in the bush were romancing, The smell of the grass caught your soul in a trance, So why be a-fearing the […]...
- Without a smile Without a Throe Without a smile Without a Throe A Summer’s soft Assemblies go To their entrancing end Unknown for all the times we met Estranged, however intimate What a dissembling Friend...
- SWISS SONG Up in th’ mountain I was a-sitting, With the bird there As my guest, Blithely singing, Blithely springing, And building His nest. In the garden I was a-standing, And the bee there Saw as well, Buzzing, humming, Going, coming, And building His cell. O’er the meadow I was a-going, And there saw the Butterflies, Sipping, […]...
- Illinois Farmer BURY this old Illinois farmer with respect. He slept the Illinois nights of his life after days of work in Illinois cornfields. Now he goes on a long sleep. The wind he listened to in the cornsilk and the tassels, the wind that combed his red beard zero mornings when the snow lay white on […]...
- Sweet Dancer The girl goes dancing there On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth Grass plot of the garden; Escaped from bitter youth, Escaped out of her crowd, Or out of her black cloud. Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer! If strange men come from the house To lead her away, do not say That she is happy being crazy; […]...
- I cautious, scanned my little life I cautious, scanned my little life I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads like mine Should be a-dreaming laid. I put the latter in a Barn The former, blew away. I went one winter morning And lo – my priceless Hay Was not upon the “Scaffold” Was not upon the “Beam” […]...
- From "Later Life" VI We lack, yet cannot fix upon the lack: Not this, nor that; yet somewhat, certainly. We see the things we do not yearn to see Around us: and what see we glancing back? Lost hopes that leave our hearts upon the rack, Hopes that were never ours yet seem’d to be, For which we […]...
- Sail On, Sail On Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark Where’er blows the welcome wind, It cannot lead to scenes more dark, More sad than those we leave behind. Each wave that passes seems to say, “Though death beneath our smile may be, Less cold we are, less false than they, Whose smiling wreck’d thy hopes and thee.” […]...
- Star of My Heart Star of my heart, I follow from afar. Sweet Love on high, lead on where shepherds are, Where Time is not, and only dreamers are. Star from of old, the Magi-Kings are dead And a foolish Saxon seeks the manger-bed. O lead me to Jehovah’s child Across this dreamland lone and wild, Then will I […]...
- Far-Darting Apollo I saw the sun step like a gentleman Dressed in black and proud as sin. I saw the sun walk across London Like a young M. P., risen to the occasion. His step was light, his tread was dancing, His lips were smiling, his eyes glancing. Over the Cenotaph in Whitehall The sun took the […]...
- Long highway blues highway dancing During a long day Of running My thumb, Carrying me nowhere Grew tired, A sunset and beauty Carved the sky Her eyes and hair A tattoo upon my soul Wouldn’t let go I had nowhere to run And so, Highway dancing And nowhere To call home. Walking the long black road Alone Believing […]...
- La Paloma in London About Soho we went before the light; We went, unresting six, craving new fun, New scenes, new raptures, for the fevered night Of rollicking laughter, drink and song, was done. The vault was void, but for the dawn’s great star That shed upon our path its silver flame, When La Paloma on a low guitar […]...
- Nimrodel An Elven-maid there was of old, A shining star by day. Her mantle white was hemmed with gold, Her shoes of silver-grey. A star was bound upon her brows, A light was on her hair As sun upon the golden boughs In Lorien the fair. Her hair was long, her limbs were white, And fair […]...
- Question And Answer he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer night, running the blade of the knife under his fingernails, smiling, thinking of all the letters he had received telling him that the way he lived and wrote about that it had kept them going when all seemed truly hopeless. putting the blade on the […]...
- LEILI THE serpents are asleep among the poppies, The fireflies light the soundless panther’s way To tangled paths where shy gazelles are straying, And parrot-plumes outshine the dying day. O soft! the lotus-buds upon the stream Are stirring like sweet maidens when they dream. A caste-mark on the azure brows of Heaven, The golden moon burns […]...
- Christmas Morn Cold frosty mornings Ice on window pain Huddle under coats Keep the warmth in Tiptoe down the stairs All quiet and hushed Barge through the door To see what’s waiting for us. A Christmas tree sparkling, Multi coloured lights, Large shiny baubles, and An angel smiling with delight. Paper chains, garlands Bells, stars and balloons […]...