National Trust

Related poetry:

1. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 54. Oh, yet we Trust that somehow Goo Oh, yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final end of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroy’d, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete; […]...
2. Trust Thou Thy Love TRUST thou thy Love: if she be proud, is she not sweet? Trust thou thy Love: if she be mute, is she not pure? Lay thou thy soul full in her hands, low at her feet; Fail, Sun and Breath! yet, for thy peace, She shall endure....
3. To Live Merrily, And To Trust To Good Verses Now is the time for mirth, Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; For with the flow’ry earth The golden pomp is come. The golden pomp is come; For now each tree does wear, Made of her pap and gum, Rich beads of amber here. Now reigns the rose, and now Th’ Arabian dew besmears My […]...
4. Trust in the Unexpected Trust in the Unexpected By this was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold As One had testified Through this the old Philosopher His Talismanic Stone Discerned still withholden To effort undivine ‘Twas this allured Columbus When Genoa withdrew Before an Apparition Baptized America The Same afflicted Thomas When Deity assured ‘Twas better the perceiving […]...
5. The Gardener XXVII: Trust Love “Trust love even if it brings sorrow. Do not close up your heart.” “Ah no, my friend, your words are Dark, I cannot understand them.” “Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop, While it laughs it dies. But sorrow is Strong and abiding. Let sorrowful Love wake in your eyes.” “Ah no, my friend, your words […]...
6. Small Is The Trust When Love Is Green SMALL is the trust when love is green In sap of early years; A little thing steps in between And kisses turn to tears. Awhile – and see how love be grown In loveliness and power! Awhile, it loves the sweets alone, But next it loves the sour. A little love is none at all […]...
7. National Monuments Count not the cost of honour to the dead! The tribute that a mighty nation pays To those who loved her well in former days Means more than gratitude for glories fled; For every noble man that she hath bred, Lives in the bronze and marble that we raise, Immortalized by art’s immortal praise, To […]...
8. The Greek National Anthem We knew thee of old, Oh divinely restored, By the light of thine eyes And the light of they Sword. From the graves of our slain Shall thy valour prevail As we greet thee again Hail, Liberty! Hail! Long time didst thou dwell Mid the peoples that mourn, Awaiting some voice That should bid thee […]...
9. An Ancient To Ancients Where once we danced, where once we sang, Gentlemen, The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang, And cracks creep; worms have fed upon The doors. Yea, sprightlier times were then Than now, with harps and tabrets gone, Gentlemen! Where once we rowed, where once we sailed, Gentlemen, And damsels took the tiller, veiled Against too strong […]...
10. The Huntsmen Three jolly gentlemen, In coats of red, Rode their horses Up to bed. Three jolly gentlemen Snored till morn, Their horses champing The golden corn. Three jolly gentlemen At break of day, Came clitter-clatter down the stairs And galloped away....
11. The Universal Language Of Love There is a universal language that is spoken by all – Both on earth and in the heavens above. It’s a beautiful language that flows from the heart And it’s universal name is love. The language of love uses thoughts and feelings To express what it wants to say, It’s the language that God uses […]...
12. The Trust Because I’ve eighty years and odd, And darkling is my day, I now prepare to meet my God, And for forgiveness pray. Not for salvation is my plea, Nor Heaven hope, just rest: Begging: “Dear Father, pardon me, I did not do my best. “I did not measure with the Just To serve my fellow […]...
13. Gentlemen lift the sea on a deformed request in a train lavatory Gentlemen lift the sea Be all of you the modern Muscular mountains Who with a scoop of biceptual crags Swoop down for an armful of ocean Leavening the dreadful pressures On the valleys of lyonnesse Gentlemen rape air with water Let the submarine nose round the moon […]...
14. A Smuggler's Song If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet, Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street. Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark Brandy for the Parson, ‘Baccy for the […]...
15. Rosie Roberts I was sick, but more than that, I was mad At the crooked police, and the crooked game of life. So I wrote to the Chief of Police at Peoria: “I am here in my girlhood home in Spoon River, Gradually wasting away. But come and take me, I killed the son Of the merchant […]...
16. The Afflicted Softly every night they come To the picture show, That old couple, deaf and dumb In the second row; Wistful watching, hand in hand, Proud they understand. Shut-ins from the world away, All in all to each; Knowing utter joy as they Read the lips of speech. . . Would, I wonder, I be glum […]...
17. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
18. She laid her docile Crescent down She laid her docile Crescent down And this confiding Stone Still states to Dates that have forgot The News that she is gone So constant to its stolid trust, The Shaft that never knew It shames the Constancy that fled Before its emblem flew...
19. I've a Secret to Tell Thee I’ve a secret to tell thee, but hush! not here Oh! not where the world its vigil keeps: I’ll seek, to whisper it in thine ear, Some shore where the Spirit of Silence sleeps; Where Summer’s wave unmurmuring dies, Nor fay can hear the fountain’s gush; Where, if but a note her night-bird sighs, The […]...
20. The Immortals I killed them, but they would not die. Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or sleep, Nor guard from them nor hide in flight. Then in my agony I turned And made my hands red in their gore. In vain – for faster than I slew They […]...
21. Mist Forms THE SHEETS of night mist travel a long valley. I know why you came at sundown in a scarf mist. What was it we touched asking nothing and asking all? How many times can death come and pay back what we saw? In the oath of the sod, the lips that swore, In the oath […]...
22. Meditation on a Bone A piece of bone, found at Trondhjem in 1901, with the following runic inscription (about A. D. 1050) cut on it: I loved her as a maiden; I will not trouble Erlend’s detestable wife; better she should be a widow. Words scored upon a bone, Scratched in despair or rage Nine hundred years have gone; […]...
23. Many a phrase has the English language Many a phrase has the English language I have heard but one Low as the laughter of the Cricket, Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs, When the Tide’s a’ lull Saying itself in new inflection Like a Whippoorwill Breaking in bright Orthography On my simple sleep Thundering its Prospective Till I […]...
24. The Line-Gang Here come the line-gang pioneering by, They throw a forest down less cut than broken. They plant dead trees for living, and the dead They string together with a living thread. They string an instrument against the sky Wherein words whether beaten out or spoken Will run as hushed as when they were a thought […]...
25. When I'm Killed When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell! So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, […]...
26. The Lady's First Song I turn round Like a dumb beast in a show. Neither know what I am Nor where I go, My language beaten Into one name; I am in love And that is my shame. What hurts the soul My soul adores, No better than a beast Upon all fours....
27. The Cool Web Children are dumb to say how hot the day is, How hot the scent is of the summer rose, How dreadful the black wastes of evening sky, How dreadful the tall soldiers drumming by. But we have speech, to chill the angry day, And speech, to dull the rose’s cruel scent. We spell away the […]...
28. The Harvest Moon The flame-red moon, the harvest moon, Rolls along the hills, gently bouncing, A vast balloon, Till it takes off, and sinks upward To lie on the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon. The harvest moon has come, Booming softly through heaven, like a bassoon. And the earth replies all night, like a deep […]...
29. Dream Song 63: Bats have no bankers and they do not drink Bats have no bankers and they do not drink And cannot be arrested and pay no tax And, in general, bats have it made. Henry for joining the human race is bats, Known to be so, by few them who think, Out of the cave. Instead of the cave! ah lovely-chilly, dark, Ur-moist his cousins […]...
30. One From One Leaves Two Higgledy piggledy, my black hen, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Gentlemen come every day To count what my black hen doth lay. If perchance she lays too many, They fine my hen a pretty penny; If perchance she fails to lay, The gentlemen a bonus pay. Mumbledy pumbledy, my red cow, She’s cooperating now. At […]...
31. Shame It is a cramped little state with no foreign policy, Save to be thought inoffensive. The grammar of the language Has never been fathomed, owing to the national habit Of allowing each sentence to trail off in confusion. Those who have visited Scusi, the capital city, Report that the railway-route from Schuldig passes Through country […]...
32. Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, Marched them along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. God for King Charles! Pym and such carles To the Devil that prompts ’em their treasonous […]...
33. Jabberers I RISE out of my depths with my language. You rise out of your depths with your language. Two tongues from the depths, Alike only as a yellow cat and a green parrot are alike, Fling their staccato tantalizations Into a wildcat jabber Over a gossamer web of unanswerables. The second and the third silence, […]...
34. Glycine's Song A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted! He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll’d Within that shaft of sunny mist; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, All else of amethyst! And thus he sang: ‘Adieu! […]...
35. DIFFERENT THREATS I ONCE into a forest far My maiden went to seek, And fell upon her neck, when: “Ah!” She threaten’d, “I will shriek!” Then cried I haughtily: “I’ll crush The man that dares come near thee!” “Hush!” whisper’d she: “My loved one, hush! Or else they’ll overhear thee!” 1767-9....
36. Russia To The Pacifists 1918 God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, But leave your sports a little while the dead are borne this way! Armies dead and Cities dead, past all count or care. God rest you, merry gentlemen, what portent see you there? Singing: Break ground for a wearied host That have no ground to […]...
37. Responsibilities – Introduction Pardon, old fathers, if you still remain Somewhere in ear-shot for the story’s end, Old Dublin merchant “free of the ten and four” Or trading out of Galway into Spain; Old country scholar, Robert Emmet’s friend, A hundred-year-old memory to the poor; Merchant and scholar who have left me blood That has not passed through […]...
38. Lullaby of an Infant Chief hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee. O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo, O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo. O […]...
39. It does not matter in what language one writes It does not matter in what language one writes. All language is foreign, incomprehensible. Every word, as soon as pronounced, Flees far away, where nothing or nobody can reach it. It does not matter how much is known. Nobody can read. Nobody knows what a lightning is And even less when it is reflected In […]...
40. No Sourdough To be a bony feed Sourdough You must, by Yukon Law, Have killed a moose, And robbed a sluice, AND BUNKED UP WITH A SQUAW. . . . Alas! Sourdough I’ll never be. Oh, sad is my excuse: My shooting’s so damn bad, you see. . . I’ve never killed a moose....