Epilogue

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1. Epilogue Between the wave-ridge and the strand I let you forth in sight of land, Songs that with storm-crossed wings and eyes Strain eastward till the darkness dies; Let signs and beacons fall or stand, And stars and balefires set and rise; Ye, till some lordlier lyric hand Weave the beloved brows their crown, At the […]...
2. To Beachey, 1912 RIDING against the east, A veering, steady shadow Purrs the motor-call Of the man-bird Ready with the death-laughter In his throat And in his heart always The love of the big blue beyond. Only a man, A far fleck of shadow on the east Sitting at ease With his hands on a wheel And around […]...
3. The Sun-Dial at Wells College The shadow by my finger cast Divides the future from the past: Before it, sleeps the unborn hour In darkness, and beyond thy power: Behind its unreturning line, The vanished hour, no longer thine: One hour alone is in thy hands, The NOW on which the shadow stands....
4. Epilogue Those blessиd structures, plot and rhyme Why are they no help to me now I want to make Something imagined, not recalled? I hear the noise of my own voice: The painter’s vision is not a lens, it trembles to caress the light. But sometimes everything I write With the threadbare art of my eye […]...
5. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
6. Troilus And Cressida Can life be a blessing, Or worth the possessing, Can life be a blessing if love were away? Ah no! though our love all night keep us waking, And though he torment us with cares all the day, Yet he sweetens, he sweetens our pains in the taking, There’s an hour at the last, there’s […]...
7. Over The Alley Here in my office I sit and write Hour on hour, and day on day, With no one to speak to from morn till night, Though I have a neighbour just over the way. Across the alley that yawns between A maiden sits sewing the whole day long; A face more lovely is seldom seen […]...
8. In Darkness Must all of worth be travailled for, and those Life’s brightest stars rise from a troubled sea? Must years go by in sad uncertainty Leaving us doubting whose the conquering blows, Are we or Fate the victors? Time which shows All inner meanings will reveal, but we Shall never know the upshot. Ours to be […]...
9. Iseult Of Brittany So delicate my hands, and long, They might have been my pride. And there were those to make them song Who for their touch had died. Too frail to cup a heart within, Too soft to hold the free- How long these lovely hands have been A bitterness to me!...
10. Epilogue Patience, little Heart. One day a heavy, June-hot woman Will enter and shut the door to stay. And when your stifling heart would summon Cool, lonely night, her roused breasts will keep the night at bay, Sitting in your room like two tiger-lilies Flaming on after sunset, Destroying the cool, lonely night with the glow […]...
11. Epilogue to Through the Looking Glass A boat, beneath a sunny sky Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear Pleased a simple tale to hear Long has paled that sunny sky: Echoes fade and memories die: Autumn frosts have slain July. Still she haunts me, phantomwise Alice moving under skies […]...
12. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 05: Retrospect Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of pigeons rises with blue wings flashing, Rises with whistle of wings, hovers an instant, And settles slowly again on the tarnished grass. And one old man looks down from a dusty window And sees the […]...
13. Oh! Think Not My Spirits Are Always As Light Oh! think not my spirits are always as light, And as free from a pang as they seem to you now, Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow. No: life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns; And the heart […]...
14. Song From An Evening's Love After the pangs of a desperate lover, When day and night I have sighed all in vain, Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover In her eyes pity, who causes my pain! When with unkindness our love at a stand is, And both have punished ourselves with the pain, Ah, what a pleasure the […]...
15. The Stand-Ins In the dream The swastika is neon And flashes like a strobe light Into my eyes, all colors, All vibrations And I see the killer in him And he turns on an oven, An oven, an oven, an oven, And on a pie plate he sticks In my Yellow Star And then Then when it […]...
16. To Live We both have our hands to give Take mine I shall lead you afar I have lived several times my face hasw changed With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn Keeping for itself and for me its perishable snow Death and the betrothed The future with five fingers […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. South Wind Where have you been, South Wind, this May-day morning,- With larks aloft, or skimming with the swallow, Or with blackbirds in a green, sun-glinted thicket? Oh, I heard you like a tyrant in the valley; Your ruffian haste shook the young, blossoming orchards; You clapped rude hands, hallooing round the chimney, And white your pennons […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. To L. H. B. (1894-1915 ) Last night for the first time since you were dead I walked with you, my brother, in a dream. We were at home again beside the stream Fringed with tall berry bushes, white and red. “Don’t touch them: they are poisonous,” I said. But your hand hovered, and I saw a beam Of strange, bright […]...
21. Sonnet 06 – Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore Alone upon the threshold of my door Of individual life, I shall command The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand Serenely in the sunshine as before, Without the sense of that which I forbore- Thy touch upon the […]...
22. Morning You know how it is waking From a dream certain you can fly And that someone, long gone, returned And you are filled with longing, For a brief moment, to drive off The road and feel nothing Or to see the loved one and feel Everything. Perhaps one morning, Taking brush to hair you’ll wonder […]...
23. In San Lorenzo Is thine hour come to wake, O slumbering Night? Hath not the Dawn a message in thine ear? Though thou be stone and sleep, yet shalt thou hear When the word falls from heaven Let there be light. Thou knowest we would not do thee the despite To wake thee while the old sorrow and […]...
24. Sacrifice I gave an eye to save from night A babe born blind; And now with eager semi-sight Vast joy I find To think a child can share with me Earth ecstasy! Delight of dawn with dewy gleam On damask rose; Crimson and gold as pennons stream Where sunset flows; And sight most nigh to paradise, […]...
25. Nocturne III One night One night all full of murmurings, of perfumes and music of wings; One night In which fantastic fireflies burnt in the humid nuptial shadows, Slowly by my side, pressed altogether close, silent and pale, As if a presentiment of infinite bitternesses Agitated you unto the most hidden fibers of your being, Along the […]...
26. Tiny Warrior You never saw the spring my love Or the red tailed hawk circling high above On feathered wings my love You only knew the snow You never saw the prairie grasses bend and blow And undulate like the shimmering indigo sea You never saw me Your eyes were closed so tight They say you put […]...
27. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
28. 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. […]...
29. My Song This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like The fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of Blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in Your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence […]...
30. Epilogue “Why can’t you say what you mean straight out in prose?” Well, say it yourself: then say “It’s that, but more, Or less perhaps, or not that way, or not That after all.” The meaning of a song Might be an undernote; this tree might mean That leaf as much as trunk, branch, other leaves. […]...
31. Epilogue WELL, when all is said and done Best within my narrow way, May some angel of the sun Muse memorial o’er my clay: “Here was beauty all betrayed From the freedom of her state; From her human uses stayed On an idle rhyme to wait. “Ah, what deep despair might move If the beauty lit […]...
32. Epilogue I have refused to refuse to publish This book of poetry Today they’ve found Over a hundred poems In this volume Tomorrow, yet more One day, even skeptics incurrable Willl be thrilled by the flair of my skill And god-playing critics will chill At the blood spilt from my quill...
33. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
34. Evening Song of the Thoughtful Child Shadow children, thin and small, Now the day is left behind, You are dancing on the wall, On the curtains, on the blind. On the ceiling, children, too, Peeping round the nursery door, Let me come and play with you, As we always played before. Let’s pretend that we have wings And can really truly […]...
35. Epilogue O chansons foregoing You were a seven days’ wonder. When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in Chicago, And now you are stale and worn out, You’re a very depleted fashion, A hoop-skirt, a calash, An homely, transient antiquity. Only emotion remains. Your emotions? Are those of a maitre-de-cafe....
36. At Baia I should have thought In a dream you would have brought Some lovely, perilous thing, Orchids piled in a great sheath, As who would say (in a dream), “I send you this, Who left the blue veins Of your throat unkissed.” Why was it that your hands (that never took mine), Your hands that I […]...
37. Epilogue Che son contenti nel fuoco We are of those that Dante saw Glad, for love’s sake, among the flames of hell, Outdaring with a kiss all-powerful wrath; For we have passed athwart a fiercer hell, Through gloomier, more desperate circles Than ever Dante dreamed: And yet love kept us glad....
38. The Island Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town, Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place? Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down? Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face? Or, wrapt in a lamplit quiet, do you restrain […]...
39. In Every Direction As if you actually died in that dream And woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines Tumble toward the ceiling. A delicate Lizard sits on your shoulder, its eyes Blinking in every direction. And when you lean forward and present your Hands to the basin of water, and glimpse the glass face That is reflected […]...
40. The Wreck Of The 'Derry Castle&#039 Day of ending for beginnings! Ocean hath another innings, Ocean hath another score; And the surges sing his winnings, And the surges shout his winnings, And the surges shriek his winnings, All along the sullen shore. Sing another dirge in wailing, For another vessel sailing With the shadow-ships at sea; Shadow-ships for ever sinking Shadow-ships […]...