She is Far From the Land

Related poetry:

1. The Princess: A Medley: As thro' the land As thro’ the land at eve we went, And pluck’d the ripen’d ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss’d again with tears. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again […]...
2. The Foreign Land A woman is a foreign land, Of which, though there he settle young, A man will ne’er quite understand The customs, politics, and tongue. The foolish hie them post-haste through, See fashions odd, and prospects fair, Learn of the language, “How d’ye do,” And go and brag they have been there. The most for leave […]...
3. Spartan Mother My mother loved her horses and Her hounds of pedigree; She did not kiss the baby hand I held to her in glee. Of course I had a sweet nou-nou Who tended me with care, And mother reined her nag to view Me with a critic air. So I went to a famous school, But […]...
4. How Oft Has the Benshee Cried How oft has the Benshee cried, How oft has death untied Bright links that Glory wove, Sweet bonds entwined by Love. Peace to each manly soul that sleepeth; Rest to each faithful eye that weepeth; Long may the fair and brave, Sigh o’er the hero’s grave. We’re fallen upon gloomy days! Star after star decays. […]...
5. A Western Ballad When I died, love, when I died My heart was broken in your care; I never suffered love so fair As now I suffer and abide When I died, love, when I died. When I died, love, when I died I wearied in an endless maze That men have walked for centuries, As endless as […]...
6. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
7. Oh! Blame Not the Bard Oh! blame not the bard, if he fly to the bowers Where Pleasure lies, carelessly smiling at Fame; He was born for much more, and in happier hours His soul might have burn’d with a holier flame. The string, that now languishes loose o’er the lyre, Might have bent a proud bow to the warrior’s […]...
8. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
9. On The Death Of Anne Bronte There’s little joy in life for me, And little terror in the grave; I’ve lived the parting hour to see Of one I would have died to save. Calmly to watch the failing breath, Wishing each sigh might be the last; Longing to see the shade of death O’er those beloved features cast; The cloud, […]...
10. My Land and I They have eaten their fill at your tables spread, Like friends since the land was won; And they rise with a cry of “Australia’s dead!” With the wheeze of “Australia’s done!” Oh, the theme is stale, but they tell the tale (How the weak old tale will keep!) Like the crows that croak on a […]...
11. Sonnet for Mother Decked in blooms, Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds, Smeared with perfumes, She traveled into the clouds. A life of love lived, A life of more giving than taking, Living a life of tears shed, Turnings, and missed crossings. She lies still beside father, In an earthen grave dug for her, On ere visits she knew […]...
12. Sonnet XV: Since to Obtain Thee His Remedy for Love Since to obtain thee nothing will be stead, I have a med’cine that shall cure my love, The powder of her heart dried, when she is dead, That gold nor honor ne’er had power to move, Mixt with her tears, that ne’er her true-love crost Nor at fifteen ne’er long’d to […]...
13. The Unpromised Land, Montgomery, Alabama Despite the noon sun shimmering on Court Street, Each day I leave my desk, and window-shop, Waste time, and use my whole lunch hour to stroll The route the marchers took. The walk is blistering The kind of heat that might make you recall Nat Turner skinned and rendered into grease If you share my […]...
14. What shall I your true love tell? What shall I your true love tell, Earth forsaking maid? What shall I your true love tell When life’s spectre’s laid? “Tell him that, our side the grave, Maid may not believe Life should be so sad to have, That’s so sad to leave!” What shall I your true love tell When I come to […]...
15. There was a land where lived no violets There was a land where lived no violets. A traveller at once demanded : “Why?” The people told him: “Once the violets of this place spoke thus: ‘Until some woman freely gives her lover To another woman We will fight in bloody scuffle.'” Sadly the people added: “There are no violets here.”...
16. I Hear an Army Charging Upon the Land I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees: Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand, Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers. They cry unto the night their battle-name: I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter. They cleave the gloom […]...
17. The Earthly Paradise: The Lady of the Land The ArgumentA certain man having landed on an island in the Greek sea, found there a beautifuldamsel, whom he would fain have delivered from a strange & dreadful doom, butfailing herein, he died soon afterwards. It happened once, some men of Italy Midst the Greek Islands went a sea-roving, And much good fortune had they […]...
18. As a World Would Have It Shall I never make him look at me again? I look at him, I look my life at him, I tell him all I know the way to tell, But there he stays the same. Shall I never make him speak one word to me? Shall I never make him say enough to show My […]...
19. Uhland's There were three cavaliers that went over the Rhine, And gayly they called to the hostess for wine. “And where is thy daughter? We would she were here, Go fetch us that maiden to gladden our cheer!” “I’ll fetch thee thy goblets full foaming,” she said, “But in yon darkened chamber the maiden lies dead.” […]...
20. THE BLISS OF SORROW NEVER dry, never dry, Tears that eternal love sheddeth! How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear, When only half-dried on the eye is the tear! Never dry, never dry, Tears that unhappy love sheddeth! 1789.*...
21. Chase Henry In my life I was the town drunkard; When I died the priest denied me burial In holy ground. The which rebounded to my good fortune. For the Protestants bought this lot, And buried my body here, Close to the grave of the banker Nicholas, And of his wife Priscilla. Take note, ye prudent and […]...
22. The Maid's Lament I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet, could he speak, Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once I sought, And wearied all my thought To vex myself and him: I now would give My love […]...
23. What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me What shall I do for the land that bred me, Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?- Be under her banner and live for her honour: Under her banner I’ll live for her honour. CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour. Not the pleasure, the pay, the plunder, But country and flag, […]...
24. A rhine-land drinking song If our own life is the life of a flower (And that’s what some sages are thinking), We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood And ’twill bloom all the sweeter Yes, life’s the completer For drinking, And drinking, And drinking. If it be that our life is a journey (As many wise folk […]...
25. 363. Song-My Native Land sae far awa O SAD and heavy, should I part, But for her sake, sae far awa; Unknowing what my way may thwart, My native land sae far awa. Thou that of a’ things Maker art, That formed this Fair sae far awa, Gie body strength, then I’ll ne’er start At this my way sae far awa. How […]...
26. Over The Land Is April OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me, Hear my sonnets ring? Over the high, brown mountain, Love, do you hear me sing? By highway, love, and byway The snows succeed the rose. Over the high, brown […]...
27. Aftermath I learnt to write to you in happier days, And every letter was a piece I chipped From off my heart, a fragment newly clipped From the mosaic of life; its blues and grays, Its throbbing reds, I gave to earn your praise. To make a pavement for your feet I stripped My soul for […]...
28. An Orphan's Lament She’s gone and twice the summer’s sun Has gilt Regina’s towers, And melted wild Angora’s snows, And warmed Exina’s bowers. The flowerets twice on hill and dale Have bloomed and died away, And twice the rustling forest leaves Have fallen to decay, And thrice stern winter’s icy hand Has checked the river’s flow, And three […]...
29. Ballad Of The Despairing Husband My wife and I lived all alone, Contention was our only bone. I fought with her, she fought with me, And things went on right merrily. But now I live here by myself With hardly a damn thing on the shelf, And pass my days with little cheer Since I have parted from my dear. […]...
30. Penance My lover died a century ago, Her dear heart stricken by my sland’rous breath, Wherefore the Gods forbade that I should know The peace of death. Men pass my grave, and say, “‘Twere well to sleep, Like such an one, amid the uncaring dead!” How should they know the vigils that I keep, The tears […]...
31. Repetitions THEY are crying salt tears Over the beautiful beloved body Of Inez Milholland, Because they are glad she lived, Because she loved open-armed, Throwing love for a cheap thing Belonging to everybody- Cheap as sunlight, And morning air....
32. How the Land was Won The future was dark and the past was dead As they gazed on the sea once more – But a nation was born when the immigrants said “Good-bye!” as they stepped ashore! In their loneliness they were parted thus Because of the work to do, A wild wide land to be won for us By […]...
33. The Land When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald, In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field, He called to him Hobdenius-a Briton of the Clay, Saying: “What about that River-piece for layin” in to hay?” And the aged Hobden answered: “I remember as a lad My father told your father that she wanted dreenin’ bad. […]...
34. A Greek Girl I may not weep, not weep, and he is dead. A weary, weary weight of tears unshed Through the long day in my sad heart I bear; The horrid sun with all unpitying glare Shines down into the dreary weaving-room, Where clangs the ceaseless clatter of the loom, And ceaselessly deft maiden-fingers weave The fine-wrought […]...
35. September 1913 What need you, being come to sense, But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence And prayer to shivering prayer, until You have dried the marrow from the bone? For men were born to pray and save: Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone, It’s with O’Leary in the grave. Yet they […]...
36. Beyond It seemeth such a little way to me Across to that strange country – the Beyond; And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be The home of those whom I am so fond, They make it seem familiar and most dear, As journeying friends bring distant regions near. So close it lies, that […]...
37. The Maiden's Lament The clouds fast gather, The forest-oaks roar A maiden is sitting Beside the green shore, The billows are breaking with might, with might, And she sighs aloud in the darkling night, Her eyelid heavy with weeping. “My heart’s dead within me, The world is a void; To the wish it gives nothing, Each hope is […]...
38. That I did always love That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived Enough That I shall love alway I argue thee That love is life And life hath Immortality This dost thou doubt Sweet Then have I Nothing to show But Calvary...
39. Old Ireland FAR hence, amid an isle of wondrous beauty, Crouching over a grave, an ancient, sorrowful mother, Once a queen-now lean and tatter’d, seated on the ground, Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her shoulders; At her feet fallen an unused royal harp, Long silent-she too long silent-mourning her shrouded hope and heir; Of all […]...
40. Land his approach To love he said Was that of a farmer Most love like Hunters and like Hunters most kill What they desire He tills Soil through toes Nose in the wet Earth he waits Prays to the gods And slowly harvests Ever thankful...