Gazing at the Sacred Peak

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1. On a Prospect of T'ai-shan How is one to describe this king of mountains? Throught the whole of Ch’i and Lu one never loses sight of its greenness. In it the Creator has concentrated All that is numinous and beautiful. Its northern and southern slopes divide the Dawn from the dark. The layered clouds begin at the climber’s heaving chest, […]...
2. That sacred Closet when you sweep That sacred Closet when you sweep Entitled “Memory” Select a reverential Broom And do it silently. ‘Twill be a Labor of surprise Besides Identity Of other Interlocutors A probability August the Dust of that Domain Unchallenged let it lie You cannot supersede itself But it can silence you...
3. ASTROPOETRY ON THE PEAK cocooned in thermal underwear Thick overcoat, scarf and woolly hat To withstand the biting mountain air In the valley below we see the lights Of little houses twinkling in the dark And beyond the next peak The glow from a distant city We scale to these dizzy heights Ignore the pain in our necks Gaze […]...
4. Pensive on Her Dead Gazing, I Heard the Mother of All PENSIVE, on her dead gazing, I heard the Mother of All, Desperate, on the torn bodies, on the forms covering the battle-fields gazing; (As the last gun ceased-but the scent of the powder-smoke linger’d;) As she call’d to her earth with mournful voice while she stalk’d: Absorb them well, O my earth, she cried-I charge […]...
5. A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton Shall the great soul of Newton quit this earth, To mingle with his stars; and every muse, Astonish’d into silence, shun the weight Of honours due to his illustrious name? But what can man? Even now the sons of light, In strains high-warbled to seraphic lyre, Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss. Yet […]...
6. While Gazing on the Moon's Light While gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me to feel its warming flame; Much more dear That mild sphere, Which near our planet smiling came; Thus, Mary, be but […]...
7. On Mr. G. Herbert's Book, Entitled the Temple of Sacred Poe Know you fair, on what you look; Divinest love lies in this book, Expecting fire from your eyes, To kindle this his sacrifice. When your hands untie these strings, Think you’have an angel by th’ wings. One that gladly will be nigh, To wait upon each morning sigh. To flutter in the balmy air Of […]...
8. Images I Like a gondola of green scented fruits Drifting along the dark canals of Venice, You, O exquisite one, Have entered into my desolate city. II The blue smoke leaps Like swirling clouds of birds vanishing. So my love leaps forth toward you, Vanishes and is renewed. III A rose-yellow moon in a pale sky […]...
9. 247. Ode, Sacred to the Memory of Mrs. Oswald of Auchencruive DWELLER in yon dungeon dark, Hangman of creation! mark, Who in widow-weeds appears, Laden with unhonour’d years, Noosing with care a bursting purse, Baited with many a deadly curse? STROPHE View the wither’d Beldam’s face; Can thy keen inspection trace Aught of Humanity’s sweet, melting grace? Note that eye, ’tis rheum o’erflows; Pity’s flood there […]...
10. Judson Stoddard On a mountain top above the clouds That streamed like a sea below me I said that peak is the thought of Budda, And that one is the prayer of Jesus, And this one is the dream of Plato, And that one there the song of Dante, And this is Kant and this is Newton, […]...
11. Climbing West Of Lotus Flower Peak Amongst the grandeur of Hua Shan I climb to the Flower Peak, And fancy I see fairies and immortals Carrying lotus in their Sacred white hands, robes flowing They fly filling the sky with colour As they rise to the palace of heaven, Inviting me to go to the cloud stage And see Wei Shu-ching, […]...
12. Gazing at the Cascade on Lu Mountain Where crowns a purple haze Ashimmer in sunlight rays The hill called Incense-Burner Peak, from far To see, hung o’er the torrent’s wall, That waterfall Vault sheer three thousand feet, you’d say The Milky Way Was tumbling from the high heavens, star on star...
13. "Heaven" has different Signs to me “Heaven” has different Signs to me Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the World And settles in the Hills An Awe if it should be like that Upon the Ignorance steals The Orchard, when the Sun is on The […]...
14. Black Harry's Team No soft-skinned Durham steers are they, No Devons plump and red, But brindled, black and iron-grey That mark the mountain-bred; For mountain-bred and mountain-broke, With sullen eyes agleam, No stranger’s hand could put a yoke On old Black Harry’s team. Pull out, pull out, at break of morn The creeks are running white, And Tiger, […]...
15. Love's Nearness I think of thee, when golden sunbeams shimmer Across the sea; And when the waves reflect the moon’s pale glimmer, I think of thee. I see thy form, when down the distant highway The dust-clouds rise; In deepest night, above the mountain by-way, I see thine eyes. I hear thee when the ocean-tides returning Loudly […]...
16. A Swarm Of Gnats Many thousand glittering motes Crowd forward greedily together In trembling circles. Extravagantly carousing away For a whole hour rapidly vanishing, They rave, delirious, a shrill whir, Shivering with joy against death. While kingdoms, sunk into ruin, Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered Into night and legend, without leaving a trace, Have never known so […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. Love Poem Yours is the face that the earth turns to me, Continuous beyond its human features lie The mountain forms that rest against the sky. With your eyes, the reflecting rainbow, the sun’s light Sees me; forest and flower, bird and beast Know and hold me forever in the world’s thought, Creation’s deep untroubled retrospect. When […]...
19. 223. Song-The Chevalier's Lament THE SMALL birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro’ the vale; The primroses blow in the dews of the morning, And wild scatter’d cowslips bedeck the green dale: But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, When the lingering moments are numbered by care? No birds sweetly […]...
20. Song of an Old General When he was a youth of fifteen or twenty, He chased a wild horse, he caught him and rode him, He shot the white-browed mountain tiger, He defied the yellow-bristled Horseman of Ye. Fighting single – handed for a thousand miles, With his naked dagger he could hold a multitude. …Granted that the troops of […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. 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, […]...
23. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
24. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
25. A Message to Commissioner Li At Zizhou From ten thousand valleys the trees touch heaven; On a thousand peaks cuckoos are calling; And, after a night of mountain rain, From each summit come hundreds of silken cascades. …If girls are asked in tribute the fibre they weave, Or farmers quarrel over taro fields, Preside as wisely as Wenweng did…. Is fame to […]...
26. Song in a Minor Key There’s a place I know where the birds swing low, And wayward vines go roaming, Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god Is pale, in scented gloaming. And at sunset there comes a lady fair Whose eyes are deep with yearning. By an old, old gate does the lady wait Her own true love’s […]...
27. And This Will be All? AND this will be all? And the gates will never open again? And the dust and the wind will play around the rusty door hinges and the songs of October moan, Why-oh, why-oh? And you will look to the mountains And the mountains will look to you And you will wish you were a mountain […]...
28. Tцrnfallet There is a meadow in Sweden Where I lie smitten, Eyes stained with clouds’ White ins and outs. And about that meadow Roams my widow Plaiting a clover Wreath for her lover. I took her in marriage In a granite parish. The snow lent her whiteness, A pine was a witness. She’d swim in the […]...
29. I Am There I come from there and remember, I was born like everyone is born, I have a mother And a house with many windows, I have brothers, friends and a prison. I have a wave that sea-gulls snatched away. I have a view of my own and an extra blade of grass. I have a moon […]...
30. Pleasure A Short Poem or Else Not Say I True pleasure breathes not city air, Nor in Art’s temples dwells, In palaces and towers where The voice of Grandeur dwells. No! Seek it where high Nature holds Her court ‘mid stately groves, Where she her majesty unfolds, And in fresh beauty moves; Where thousand birds of […]...
31. November Cotton Flower Boll-weevil’s coming, and the winter’s cold, Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old, And cotton, scarce as any southern snow, Was vanishing; the branch, so pinched and slow, Failed in its function as the autumn rake; Drouth fighting soil had caused the soil to take All water from the streams; dead birds were found In wells […]...
32. The Lay of the Motor-Car We’re away! and the wind whistles shrewd In our whiskers and teeth; And the granite-like grey of the road Seems to slide underneath. As an eagle might sweep through the sky, So we sweep through the land; And the pallid pedestrians fly When they hear us at hand. We outpace, we outlast, we outstrip! Not […]...
33. Misgivings When ocean-clouds over inland hills Sweep storming in late autumn brown, And horror the sodden valley fills, And the spire falls crashing in the town, I muse upon my country’s ills The tempest burning from the waste of Time On the world’s fairest hope linked with man’s foulest crime. Nature’s dark side is heeded now […]...
34. The Man From Snowy River There was movement at the station, for the word has passed around That the colt from old Regret had got away, And had joined the wild bush horses-he was worth a thousand pound, So all the cracks had gathered to the fray. All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far Had […]...
35. I Come From There I come from there and I have memories Born as mortals are, I have a mother And a house with many windows, I have brothers, friends, And a prison cell with a cold window. Mine is the wave, snatched by sea-gulls, I have my own view, And an extra blade of grass. Mine is the […]...
36. Before I got my eye put out Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see As other Creatures, that have Eyes And know no other way But were it told to me Today That I might have the sky For mine I tell you that my Heart Would split, for size of me The Meadows mine The […]...
37. Is White a Color? White, pristine, unblemished They say it is not a color I love white mists, clouds Lingering on blue mountains. White, no shades No off white, cream Pure as snow on shimmering peaks Is my favorite sight. Nurses, priests, politicians Are bound, chained to white White nebulous clouds Evoke deep nostalgic thoughts. They swaddled my father […]...
38. Winter Landscape The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older men, […]...
39. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
40. Azure and Gold April had covered the hills With flickering yellows and reds, The sparkle and coolness of snow Was blown from the mountain beds. Across a deep-sunken stream The pink of blossoming trees, And from windless appleblooms The humming of many bees. The air was of rose and gold Arabesqued with the song of birds Who, swinging […]...