Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight

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1. Lincoln I Like a gaunt, scraggly pine Which lifts its head above the mournful sandhills; And patiently, through dull years of bitter silence, Untended and uncared for, starts to grow. Ungainly, labouring, huge, The wind of the north has twisted and gnarled its branches; Yet in the heat of midsummer days, when thunderclouds ring the horizon, […]...
2. She Walks In Beauty She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which […]...
3. Dream Land Where sunless rivers weep Their waves into the deep, She sleeps a charmed sleep: Awake her not. Led by a single star, She came from very far To seek where shadows are Her pleasant lot. She left the rosy morn, She left the fields of corn, For twilight cold and lorn And water springs. Through […]...
4. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07: Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out. . . The yellow windows darken, the shades are drawn, In thousands of rooms we sleep, we await the dawn, We lie face down, we dream, We cry aloud with terror, half rise, or seem To stare at the ceiling or walls. […]...
5. The Arabian Shawl “It is cold outside, you will need a coat What! this old Arabian shawl! Bind it about your head and throat, These steps… it is dark… my hand… you Might fall.” What has happened? What strange, sweet charm Lingers about the Arabian shawl… Do not tremble so! There can be no harm In just remembering […]...
6. On such a night, or such a night On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair So quiet Oh how quiet, That nobody might know But that the little figure Rocked softer to and fro On such a dawn, or such a dawn Would anybody sigh That such a little […]...
7. LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE WHEN the Norn Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour Greatening and darkening as it hurried on, She left the Heaven of Heroes and came down To make a man to meet the mortal need. She took the tried clay of the common road Clay warm yet with the genial heat of earth, Dashed through it all […]...
8. Should You Ask At Midnight What would I do without your voice to wake me? Cor ad cor loquitur, I’m loath to know. Kitsch operas sound, unhesitant to shake me, The sheers undrawn, the heavens hardly showing, My camisole askew, of lace-trimmed black – Not red, not white; not passionate or pure. I raise the volume, and the voices crack- […]...
9. Lincoln Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all, That which is gendered in the wilderness From lonely prairies and God’s tenderness. Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream, Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream, Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave, Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire – Fire that freed […]...
10. The Rose of Midnight THE moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; Her pollen is the dew. Her pollen is the mist that swings Across her face of dreams: Her pollen is the April rain, Filling the April streams. Her pollen is eternal life, Endless ambrosial foam. […]...
11. The Tired Worker O whisper, O my soul! The afternoon Is waning into evening, whisper soft! Peace, O my rebel heart! for soon the moon From out its misty veil will swing aloft! Be patient, weary body, soon the night Will wrap thee gently in her sable sheet, And with a leaden sigh thou wilt invite To rest […]...
12. Abraham The rivulet-loving wanderer Abraham Through waterless wastes tracing his fields of pasture Led his Chaldean herds and fattening flocks With the meandering art of wavering water That seeks and finds, yet does not know its way. He came, rested and prospered, and went on, Scattering behind him little pastoral kingdoms, And over each one its […]...
13. Midnight Oil Edna St. Vincent Millay – Midnight Oil Cut if you will, with Sleep’s dull knife, Each day to half its length, my friend,- The years that Time take off my life, He’ll take from off the other end!...
14. Frost At Midnight The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry Came loud, – and hark, again! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. ‘Tis calm indeed! so calm, […]...
15. Abraham to kill him Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told Isaac was an Urchin Abraham was old Not a hesitation Abraham complied Flattered by Obeisance Tyranny demurred Isaac to his children Lived to tell the tale Moral with a Mastiff Manners may prevail....
16. A Clear Midnight THIS is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best. Night, sleep, and the stars....
17. At Midnight Now at last I have come to see what life is, Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun, And the brave victories that seem so splendid Are never really won. Even love that I built my spirit’s house for, Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest, And music and men’s praise and even laughter […]...
18. Midnight The stars are soft as flowers, and as near; The hills are webs of shadow, slowly spun; No separate leaf or single blade is here- All blend to one. No moonbeam cuts the air; a sapphire light Rolls lazily. and slips again to rest. There is no edged thing in all this night, Save in […]...
19. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high wold, And on these dews that drench the furze. And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and […]...
20. Midnight in Camp Night in the unslumbering forest! From the free, Vast pinelands by the foot of man untrod, Blows the wild wind, roaming rejoicingly This wilderness of God; And the tall firs that all day long have flung Balsamic odors where the sunshine burned, Chant to its harping primal epics learned When this old world was young. […]...
21. A Midnight Meditation HOW often have I said, “We may not grieve for the immortal dead.” And now, poor blenchèd heart, Thy ruddy hues all tremulous depart. Why be with fate at strife Because one passes on from death to life, Who may no more delay Rapt from our strange and pitiful dream away By one with ancient […]...
22. This Me that walks and works must die This Me that walks and works must die, Some fair or stormy Day, Adversity if it may be Or wild prosperity The Rumor’s Gate was shut so tight Before my mind was born Not even a Prognostic’s push Can make a Dent thereon...
23. The Death of Lincoln Oh, slow to smit and swift to spare, Gentle and merciful and just! Who, in the fear of God, didst bear The sword of power, a nation’s trust! In sorrow by thy bier we stand, Amid the awe that hushes all, And speak the anguish of a land That shook with horror at thy fall. […]...
24. Magdalen Walks The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March, The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by. A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning Breeze, The odour of […]...
25. The Divine Vision THIS mood hath known all beauty, for it sees O’erwhelmed majesties In these pale forms, and kingly crowns of gold On brows no longer bold, And through the shadowy terrors of their hell The love for which they fell, And how desire which cast them in the deep Called God too from His sleep. Oh, […]...
26. In Midnight Sleep 1 IN midnight sleep, of many a face of anguish, Of the look at first of the mortally wounded-of that indescribable look; Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide, I dream, I dream, I dream. 2 Of scenes of nature, fields and mountains; Of skies, so beauteous after a storm-and at night […]...
27. Clemenceau His frown brought terror to his foes, But now in twilight of his days The pure perfection of a rose Can kindle rapture in his gaze. Where once he swung the sword of wrath And peoples trembled at his word, With hoe he trims a pansied path And listens to a bird. His large of […]...
28. The Promise of Sleep Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, The dreams from out thy breast; No joy for thee but thou shalt find Thy rest All day I could not work for woe, I could not work nor rest; The trouble drove me to and fro, Like a leaf on the storm’s breast. Night came and […]...
29. When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side, When Katie runs unwearied they follow on the road, When Katie kneels, their loving hands still clasp her pious knee Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, with two so knit to thee!...
30. Midnight Speak to me, aching heart: what Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself Weeping in the dark garage With your sack of garbage: it is not your job To take out the garbage, it is your job To empty the dishwasher. You are showing off Again, Exactly as you did in childhood where Is your […]...
31. The Atavist What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o’ the world, Where the wind has the cut of a naked knife and the stars are rapier keen? Hugging a smudgy willow fire, deep in a lynx robe curled, You that’s a lord’s own son, Tom Thorne what does your madness mean? Go […]...
32. An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife TO these whom death again did wed This grave ‘s the second marriage-bed. For though the hand of Fate could force ‘Twixt soul and body a divorce, It could not sever man and wife, Because they both lived but one life. Peace, good reader, do not weep; Peace, the lovers are asleep. They, sweet turtles, […]...
33. A Calendar of Sonnets: January O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire, What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire The streams than under ice. June could not hire Her roses to forego the strength they learn In sleeping on thy breast. No […]...
34. Dream Song 39: Goodbye, sir, & fare well. You're in the clear Goodbye, sir, & fare well. You’re in the clear. ‘Nobody’ (Mark says you said) ‘is ever found out.’ I figure you were right, Having as Henry got away with murder For long. Some jarred clock tell me it’s late, Not for you who went straight But for the lorn. Our roof is lefted off Lately: […]...
35. Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright Sleep! sleep! beauty bright, Dreaming o’er the joys of night; Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep. Sweet Babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles. As thy softest limbs I feel, Smiles as of the morning steal O’er thy cheek, and […]...
36. Sleep Now, O Sleep Now Sleep now, O sleep now, O you unquiet heart! A voice crying “Sleep now” Is heard in my heart. The voice of the winter Is heard at the door. O sleep, for the winter Is crying “Sleep no more.” My kiss will give peace now And quiet to your heart – Sleep on in peace […]...
37. Good Morning Midnight Good Morning Midnight I’m coming Home Day got tired of Me How could I of Him? Sunshine was a sweet place I liked to stay But Morn didn’t want me now So Goodnight Day! I can look can’t I When the East is Red? The Hills have a way then That puts the Heart abroad […]...
38. In The Forest HERE, O my heart, let us burn the dear dreams that are dead, Here in this wood let us fashion a funeral pyre Of fallen white petals and leaves that are mellow and red, Here let us burn them in noon’s flaming torches of fire. We are weary, my heart, we are weary, so long […]...
39. Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low And soonest […]...
40. The Sad Mother Sleep, sleep, my beloved, Without worry, without fear, Although my soul does not sleep, Although I do not rest. Sleep, sleep, and in the night May your whispers be softer Than a leaf of grass, Or the silken fleece of lambs. May my flesh slumber in you, My worry, my trembling. In you, may my […]...