Thoughts of Li Po from the World's End
Here at the world’s end the cold winds are beginning to blow. What messages
Have you for me, my master? When will the poor wandering goose arrive? The
Rivers and lakes are swollen with autumn’s waters. Art detests a too successful
Life; and the hungry goblins await you with welcoming jaws. You had better have
A word with the ghost of that other wronged poet. Drop some verses into the
Mi-lo as an offering to him!
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- Thoughts in a Garden HOW vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow-verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close To weave the garlands of repose! Fair Quiet, have I found thee […]...
- Sonnet 29 – I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud I think of thee!-my thoughts do twine and bud About thee, as wild vines, about a tree, Put out broad leaves, and soon there ‘s nought to see Except the straggling green which hides the wood. Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood I will not have my thoughts instead of thee Who art dearer, […]...
- Worlds For Alexander there was no Far East, Because he thought the Asian continent India ended. Free Cathay at least Did not contribute to his discontent. But Newton, who had grasped all space, was more Serene. To him it seemed that he’d but played With several shells and pebbles on the shore Of that profundity he […]...
- Visions of the worlds vanitie One day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe, My spirit, shaking off her earthly prison, Began to enter into meditation deepe Of things exceeding reach of common reason; Such as this age, in which all good is geason, And all that humble is and meane debaced, Hath brought forth in her last declining season, […]...
- Apples Behold the apples’ rounded worlds: Juice-green of July rain, The black polestar of flowers, the rind Mapped with its crimson stain. The russet, crab and cottage red Burn to the sun’s hot brass, Then drop like sweat from every branch And bubble in the grass. They lie as wanton as they fall, And where they […]...
- Little Joke Stripping an almond tree in flower The wise apothecary’s skill A single drop of lethal power From perfect sweetness can distill From bitterness in efflorescence, With murderous poisons packed therein; The poet draws pellucid essence Pure as a drop of metheglin....
- Thoughts On The Works Of Providence A R I S E, my soul, on wings enraptur’d, rise To praise the monarch of the earth and skies, Whose goodness and benificence appear As round its centre moves the rolling year, Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, Or the sun slumbers in the ocean’s arms: Of light divine be a rich […]...
- On – On – Poet I to the open road, You to the hunchbacked street – Which of us two Shall the earlier rue That day we chanced to meet? I with a heart that’s sound, You with sick fancies of pain – Which of us two Would the earlier rue If we chanced to meet again? I jingle homely […]...
- Thoughts OF Public Opinion; Of a calm and cool fiat, sooner or later, (How impassive! How certain and final!) Of the President with pale face, asking secretly to himself, What will the people say at last? Of the frivolous Judge-Of the corrupt Congressman, Governor, Mayor-Of such as these, standing helpless and exposed; Of the mumbling and […]...
- Your thoughts don't have words every day Your thoughts don’t have words every day They come a single time Like signal esoteric sips Of the communion Wine Which while you taste so native seems So easy so to be You cannot comprehend its price Nor its infrequency...
- The New Omar A Book of verses underneath the bough, Provided that the verses do not scan, A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and Thou, Short-haired, all angles, looking like a man. But let the wine be unfermented, Pale, Of chemicals compounded, God knows how This were indeed the Prophet’s Paradise, O Paradise were Wilderness enow....
- Home Thoughts, From The Sea Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away; Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay; Bluish ‘mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay; In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey; “Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?”-say, Whoso turns as I, […]...
- Home Thoughts, From Abroad Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England-now! And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and […]...
- NIGHT THOUGHTS OH, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn, Ye by whom the sea-toss’d sailor’s lighted, Who with radiant beams the heav’ns adorn, But by gods and men are unrequited: For ye love not, ne’er have learnt to love! Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move, In the spacious sky your charms displaying, What far travels ye have […]...
- To Kathleen STILL must the poet as of old, In barren attic bleak and cold, Starve, freeze, and fashion verses to Such things as flowers and song and you; Still as of old his being give In Beauty’s name, while she may live, Beauty that may not die as long As there are flowers and you and […]...
- Noe more unto my thoughts appeare NOE more unto my thoughts appeare, Att least appeare lesse fayre, For crazy tempers justly feare The goodnesse of the ayre; Whilst your pure Image hath a place 5 In my impurer Mynde, Your very shaddow is the glasse Where my defects I finde. Shall I not fly that brighter light Which makes my fyres […]...
- Caboose Thoughts IT’S going to come out all right—do you know? The sun, the birds, the grass—they know. They get along—and we’ll get along. Some days will be rainy and you will sit waiting And the letter you wait for won’t come, And I will sit watching the sky tear off gray and gray And the letter […]...
- It's thoughts and just One Heart It’s thoughts and just One Heart And Old Sunshine about Make frugal Ones Content And two or three for Company Upon a Holiday Crowded as Sacrament Books when the Unit Spare the Tenant long eno’ A Picture if it Care Itself a Gallery too rare For needing more Flowers to keep the Eyes from going […]...
- Dead thoughts of corpses The symbols that we use are T shirts of the dead Thoughts of corpses without heads, a rictus Without sound – open-mouthed, empty, unbound. And if you ever write those clichés which incite My approbation, fuck you, I am not amused. And if I ever do, then fuck me too. I battle with the icons […]...
- Thoughts Of Phena at news of her death Not a line of her writing have I Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize At her close, whom I knew […]...
- Home Thoughts Oh something just now must be happening there! That suddenly and quiveringly here, Amid the city’s noises, I must think Of mangoes leaning o’er the river’s brink, And dexterous Davie climbing high above, The gold fruits ebon-speckled to remove, And toss them quickly in the tangled mass Of wis-wis twisted round the guinea grass; And […]...
- Home Thoughts THE SEA rocks have a green moss. The pine rocks have red berries. I have memories of you. Speak to me of how you miss me. Tell me the hours go long and slow. Speak to me of the drag on your heart, The iron drag of the long days. I know hours empty as […]...
- Thoughts in a Tranquil Night Athwart the bed I watch the moonbeams cast a trail So bright, so cold, so frail, That for a space it gleams Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams. I raise my head, The splendid moon I see: Then droop my head, And sink to dreams of thee My Fatherland, of thee!...
- Quiet Night Thoughts Before my bed There is bright moonlight So that it seems Like frost on the ground: Lifting my head I watch the bright moon, Lowering my head I dream that I’m home....
- Lenten Thoughts of a High Anglican Isn’t she lovely, “the Mistress”? With her wide-apart grey-green eyes, The droop of her lips and, when she smiles, Her glance of amused surprise? How nonchalantly she wears her clothes, How expensive they are as well! And the sound of her voice is as soft and deep As the Christ Church tenor bell. But why […]...
- Sonnet 75: So are you to my thoughts as food to life So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-seasoned showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found. Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure; Now counting best […]...
- Thoughts On The Shape Of The Human Body How can we find? how can we rest? how can We, being gods, win joy, or peace, being man? We, the gaunt zanies of a witless Fate, Who love the unloving and lover hate, Forget the moment ere the moment slips, Kiss with blind lips that seek beyond the lips, Who want, and know not […]...
- Confirmation He was a poet who wrote clever verses, And folks said he had a fine poetical taste; But his father, a practical farmer, accused him Of letting the strength of his arm go to waste. He called on his sweetheart each Saturday evening, As pretty a maiden as ever man faced, And there he confirmed […]...
- Night Thoughts Over A Sick Child Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep, I keep night watch. Looking for Signs to quiet fear, I creep Closer to his bed and hear His breath come and go, holding My own as if my own were All I paid. Nothing I bring, Say, or do has meaning here. Outside, ice crusts on river And […]...
- THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST'S DESCENT INTO HELL THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST’S DESCENT INTO HELL. [THE remarkable Poem of which this is a literal But faint representation, was written when Goethe was only sixteen Years old. It derives additional interest from the fact of its being The very earliest piece of his that is preserved. The few other Pieces included by Goethe under […]...
- Remembrance THERE were many burning hours on the heartsweet tide, And we passed away from ourselves, forgetting all The immortal moods that faded, the god who died, Hastening away to the King on a distant call. There were ruby dews were shed when the heart was riven, And passionate pleading and prayers to the dead we […]...
- The Look The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word, No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord Looked only, on the traitor. None record What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen, […]...
- Flower Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it Droop and drop into the dust. I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of Pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am Aware, and the time […]...
- To Certain Poets Now is the rhymer’s honest trade A thing for scornful laughter made. The merchant’s sneer, the clerk’s disdain, These are the burden of our pain. Because of you did this befall, You brought this shame upon us all. You little poets mincing there With women’s hearts and women’s hair! How sick Dan Chaucer’s ghost must […]...
- The Superseded I As newer comers crowd the fore, We drop behind. – We who have laboured long and sore Times out of mind, And keen are yet, must not regret To drop behind. II Yet there are of us some who grieve To go behind; Staunch, strenuous souls who scarce believe Their fires declined, And know […]...
- Old Tom The harridan who holds the inn At which I toss a pot, Is old and uglier than sin, I’m glad she knows me not. Indeed, for me it’s hard to think, Although my pow’s like snow, She was the lass so fresh and pink I courted long ago. I wronged her, yet it’s sadly true […]...
- Ages and Ages, Returning at Intervals AGES and ages, returning at intervals, Undestroy’d, wandering immortal, Lusty, phallic, with the potent original loins, perfectly sweet, I, chanter of Adamic songs, Through the new garden, the West, the great cities calling, Deliriate, thus prelude what is generated, offering these, offering myself, Bathing myself, bathing my songs in Sex, Offspring of my loins....
- Daylight and Moonlight In broad daylight, and at noon, Yesterday I saw the moon Sailing high, but faint and white, As a schoolboy’s paper kite. In broad daylight, yesterday, I read a poet’s mystic lay; And it seemed to me at most As a phantom, or a ghost. But at length the feverish day Like a passion died […]...