How a Little Girl Sang

Related poetry:

1. A Girl Sang a Song A girl sang a song in the temple’s chorus, About men, tired in alien lands, About the ships that left native shores, And all who forgot their joy to the end. Thus sang her clean voice, and flew up to the highness, And sunbeams shined on her shoulder’s white And everyone saw and heard from […]...
2. Servant Girl and Grocer's Boy Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you kid!” Her soul spoke thus (I know it did): “O king of realms of endless joy, My own, my golden grocer’s boy, I am a princess forced to dwell Within a lonely kitchen cell, While you go dashing through the land With loveliness on every hand. Your whistle strikes […]...
3. I Sang I sang to you and the moon But only the moon remembers. I sang O reckless free-hearted free-throated rythms, Even the moon remembers them And is kind to me....
4. Song (She Sat And Sang Alway) She sat and sang alway By the green margin of a stream, Watching the fishes leap and play Beneath the glad sunbeam. I sat and wept alway Beneath the moon’s most shadowy beam, Watching the blossoms of the May Weep leaves into the stream. I wept for memory; She sang for hope that is so […]...
5. Dream Song 41: If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) While snows flies, chill, after so frequent knew So many all nothing, For lead & fire, it’s not we would assert Particulars, but animal; cats mew, Horses scream, man sing. Or: men pslam. Man palms his ears and moans. Death is a German […]...
6. A Crazed Girl That crazed girl improvising her music. Her poetry, dancing upon the shore, Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew not where, Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship, Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing Heroically lost, heroically found. No matter what disaster occurred She […]...
7. The Crickets sang The Crickets sang And set the Sun And Workmen finished one by one Their Seam the Day upon. The low Grass loaded with the Dew The Twilight stood, as Strangers do With Hat in Hand, polite and new To stay as if, or go. A Vastness, as a Neighbor, came, A Wisdom, without Face, or […]...
8. The Sewing-Girl The humble garret where I dwell Is in that Quarter called the Latin; It isn’t spacious truth to tell, There’s hardly room to swing a cat in. But what of that! It’s there I fight For food and fame, my Muse inviting, And all the day and half the night You’ll find me writing, writing, […]...
9. Sang from the Heart, Sire Sang from the Heart, Sire, Dipped my Beak in it, If the Tune drip too much Have a tint too Red Pardon the Cochineal Suffer the Vermillion Death is the Wealth Of the Poorest Bird. Bear with the Ballad Awkward faltering Death twists the strings ‘Twasn’t my blame Pause in your Liturgies Wait your Chorals […]...
10. The Singing Girl (For the Rev. Edward F. Garesche, S. J.) There was a little maiden In blue and silver drest, She sang to God in Heaven And God within her breast. It flooded me with pleasure, It pierced me like a sword, When this young maiden sang: “My soul Doth magnify the Lord.” The stars sing all […]...
11. THE QUADROON GIRL The Slaver in the broad lagoon Lay moored with idle sail; He waited for the rising moon, And for the evening gale. Under the shore his boat was tied, And all her listless crew Watched the gray alligator slide Into the still bayou. Odors of orange-flowers, and spice, Reached them from time to time, Like […]...
12. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
13. Bad for ears the song wasn’t up to the task Of getting through the double-glazing Into the ears pressed on the outside pane The rest of their bodies had faded away but The ears were straining still towards the music In order to know the good times being had in the room Night fell the cold grew and […]...
14. Valentine To The Girl In Black In hand I take this pen of mine To write you, sweet, a valentine; I’d take your dainty hand instead, But-you’re a drawing-I am wed- And that is why, you understand, I only take my pen in hand....
15. Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; Lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong At my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed With love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded Down […]...
16. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, and […]...
17. How a Little Girl Danced DEDICATED TO LUCY BATES (Being a reminiscence of certain private theatricals.) Oh, cabaret dancer, I know a dancer, Whose eyes have not looked on the feasts that are vain. I know a dancer, I know a dancer, Whose soul has no bond with the beasts of the plain: Judith the dancer, Judith the dancer, With […]...
18. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
19. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world may stare and never know You and I are twined together so. You and I for all his vaunted width Know the giant Space is but a myth; Over miles and miles of pure deceit […]...
20. The Olympic Girl The sort of girl I like to see Smiles down from her great height at me. She stands in strong, athletic pose And wrinkles her retroussй nose. Is it distaste that makes her frown, So furious and freckled, down On an unhealthy worm like me? Or am I what she likes to see? I do […]...
21. 45. My Girl she's Airy: A Fragment MY girl she’s airy, she’s buxom and gay; Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May; A touch of her lips it ravishes quite: She’s always good natur’d, good humour’d, and free; She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me; I never am happy when out of her sight....
22. To a Little Girl That Has Told a Lie AND has my darling told a lie? Did she forget that GOD was by? That GOD, who saw the things she did, From whom no action can be hid; Did she forget that GOD could see And hear, wherever she might be? He made your eyes, and can discern Whichever way you think to turn; […]...
23. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
24. What the Bullet sang O JOY of creation, To be! O rapture, to fly And be free! Be the battle lost or won, Though its smoke shall hide the sun, I shall find my love the one Born for me! I shall know him where he stands All alone, With the power in his hands Not o’erthrown; I shall […]...
25. Everyone Sang Everyone suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on on and out of sight. Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted […]...
26. A Greek Girl I may not weep, not weep, and he is dead. A weary, weary weight of tears unshed Through the long day in my sad heart I bear; The horrid sun with all unpitying glare Shines down into the dreary weaving-room, Where clangs the ceaseless clatter of the loom, And ceaselessly deft maiden-fingers weave The fine-wrought […]...
27. Girl (three) and the black horse i want to hold the horse’s string Cried the girl (three) stamping her foot Told by adults she was much too young The black horse stood staring at the wall It worries us you may get hurt The adults whispered – meaning to offer Comfort to the little madam (not convinced) The black horse stood […]...
28. Dream Song 122: He published his girl's bottom in staid pages He published his girl’s bottom in staid pages Of an old weekly. Where will next his rages Ridiculous Henry land? Tranquil & chaste, de-hammocked, he descended— Upon which note the fable should have ended— Towards the ground, and While fable wound itself upon him thick And coats upon his tongue formed, white, terrific: He stretched […]...
29. Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window Sunday, I am eating a Grapefruit, church is over at the Russian Orthadox to the West. She is dark Of Eastern descent, Large brown eyes look up from the Bible Then down. a small red and black Bible, and as she reads Her legs keep moving, moving, She is doing a slow rythmic dance Reading […]...
30. The Negro Girl I. Dark was the dawn, and o’er the deep The boist’rous whirlwinds blew; The Sea-bird wheel’d its circling sweep, And all was drear to view When on the beach that binds the western shore The love-lorn ZELMA stood, list’ning the tempest’s roar. II. Her eager Eyes beheld the main, While on her DRACO dear She […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. Mystery Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses Of Egypt filled For a God’s excesses. I lift to you My bowl of kisses, And through the temple’s Blue recesses Cry out to you In wild caresses. And to my lips’ Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my […]...
33. On An Old Roundel Death, from thy rigour a voice appealed, And men still hear what the sweet cry saith, Crying aloud in thine ears fast sealed, Death. As a voice in a vision that vanisheth, Through the grave’s gate barred and the portal steeled The sound of the wail of it travelleth. Wailing aloud from a heart unhealed, […]...
34. The Fountain Oh in the deep blue night The fountain sang alone; It sang to the drowsy heart Of a satyr carved in stone. The fountain sang and sang But the satyr never stirred Only the great white moon In the empty heaven heard. The fountain sang and sang And on the marble rim The milk-white peacocks […]...
35. A Tree Telling of Orpheus White dawn. Stillness. When the rippling began I took it for sea-wind, coming to our valley with rumors of salt, of treeless horizons. But the white fog Didn’t stir; the leaves of my brothers remained outstretched, unmoving. Yet the rippling drew nearer – and then my own outermost branches began to tingle, almost as if […]...
36. Heel & Toe To The End Gagarin says, in ecstasy, He could have Gone on forever He floated At and sang And when he emerged from that One hundred eight minutes off The surface of The earth he was smiling. Then he returned To take his place Among the rest of us From all that division and Subtraction a measure To […]...
37. Careers Father is quite the greatest poet That ever lived anywhere. You say you’re going to write great music – I chose that first: it’s unfair. Besides, now I can’t be the greatest painter and do Christ and angels, or lovely pears and apples and grapes on a green dish, or storms at sea, or anything […]...
38. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
39. Dust When the white flame in us is gone, And we that lost the world’s delight Stiffen in darkness, left alone To crumble in our separate night; When your swift hair is quiet in death, And through the lips corruption thrust Has stilled the labour of my breath When we are dust, when we are dust! […]...
40. The fascinating chill that music leaves The fascinating chill that music leaves Is Earth’s corroboration Of Ecstasy’s impediment ‘Tis Rapture’s germination In timid and tumultuous soil A fine estranging creature To something upper wooing us But not to our Creator...