To Gloriana

Related poetry:

1. Rhymes for Gloriana I. THE DOLL UPON THE TOPMOST BOUGH This doll upon the topmost bough, This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress, Was taken down and brought to me One sleety night most comfortless. Her hair was gold, her dolly-sash Was gray brocade, most good to see. The dear toy laughed, and I forgot The ill the new year […]...
2. When on a Summer's Morn When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in […]...
3. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 83. Dip down upon the northern shore Dip down upon the northern shore O sweet new-year delaying long; Thou doest expectant nature wrong; Delaying long, delay no more. What stays thee from the clouded noons, Thy sweetness from its proper place? Can trouble live with April days, Or sadness in the summer moons? Bring orchis, bring the foxglove spire, The little speed […]...
4. Drink To Her Drink to her who long Hath waked the poet’s sigh, The girl who gave to song What gold could never buy. Oh! woman’s heart was made For minstrel hands alone; By other fingers play’d, It yields not half the tone. Then here’s to her who long Hath waked the poet’s sigh, The girl who gave […]...
5. Weird-Bird Birds are flyin’ south for winter. Here’s the Weird-Bird headin’ north, Wings a-flappin’, beak a-chatterin’, Cold head bobbin’ back ‘n’ forth. He says, “It’s not that I like ice Or freezin’ winds and snowy ground. It’s just sometimes it’s kind of nice To be the only bird in town.”...
6. THE MINSTREL [This fine poem is introduced in the second Book of Wilhelm Meister.] “WHAT tuneful strains salute mine ear Without the castle walls? Oh, let the song re-echo here, Within our festal halls!” Thus spake the king, the page out-hied; The boy return’d; the monarch cried: “Admit the old man yonder!” “All hail, ye noble lords […]...
7. A Coat I made my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But he fools caught it, Wore it in the world’s eyes As though they’d wrought it. Song, let them take it, For there’s more enterprise In walking naked....
8. Companions Leave not your bough, my slender song-bird sweet, But pipe me now your roundelay complete. Come, gentle breeze, and tarrying on your way, Whisper my trees what you have seen to-day. Stand, golden cloud, until my song be done, (For he’s too proud) before the face of the sun. So one did sing, and the […]...
9. A Child's Laughter ALL the bells of heaven may ring, All the birds of heaven may sing, All the wells on earth may spring, All the winds on earth may bring All sweet sounds together – Sweeter far than all things heard, Hand of harper, tone of bird, Sound of woods at sundawn stirred, Welling water’s winsome word, […]...
10. I know why the caged bird sings A free bird leaps on the back Of the wind and floats downstream Till the current ends and dips his wing In the orange suns rays And dares to claim the sky. But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage Can seldom see through his bars of rage His wings are clipped and his […]...
11. Goddess In The Wood, The In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood, Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream; […]...
12. Magellanic Penguin Neither clown nor child nor black Nor white but verticle And a questioning innocence Dressed in night and snow: The mother smiles at the sailor, The fisherman at the astronaunt, But the child child does not smile When he looks at the bird child, And from the disorderly ocean The immaculate passenger Emerges in snowy […]...
13. A Fine Day After all the rain, the sun Shines on hill and grassy mead; Fly into the garden, child, You are very glad indeed. For the days have been so dull, Oh, so special dark and drear, That you told me, “Mr. Sun Has forgotten we live here.” Dew upon the lily lawn, Dew upon the garden […]...
14. O Singer in Brown O, singer in brown! O, bird o’ th’ morn! O, heart of delight In th’ deep o’ th’ thorn! Glad is thy song Thou joy o’ th’ morn, Thou palpitant throat In the heart o’ th’ thorn! Thy song of the nest, O, sweet o’ th’ morn! A nest and an egg In the thick […]...
15. Parting He. Dear, I must be gone While night Shuts the eyes Of the household spies; That song announces dawn. She. No, night’s bird and love’s Bids all true lovers rest, While his loud song reproves The murderous stealth of day. He. Daylight already flies From mountain crest to crest She. That light is from the […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. Freedom I WILL not follow you, my bird, I will not follow you. I would not breathe a word, my bird, To bring thee here anew. I love the free in thee, my bird, The lure of freedom drew; The light you fly toward, my bird, I fly with thee unto. And there we yet will […]...
18. Sonnet On Hearing The Dies Irae Sung In The Sistine Chapel Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in the spring, Sad olive-groves, or silver-breasted dove, Teach me more clearly of Thy life and love Than terrors of red flame and thundering. The hillside vines dear memories of Thee bring: A bird at evening flying to its nest Tells me of One who had no place of […]...
19. I Am Like One That For Long Days Had Sate I AM like one that for long days had sate, With seaward eyes set keen against the gale, On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail, The portbound ships for one ship that was late; And sail by sail, his heart burned up with joy, And cruelly was quenched, until at last One ship, the […]...
20. The Goldsmith ‘This job’s the best I’ve done.’ He bent his head Over the golden vessel that he’d wrought. A bird was singing. But the craftsman’s thought Is a forgotten language, lost and dead. He sighed and stretch’d brown arms. His friend came in And stood beside him in the morning sun. The goldwork glitter’d…. ‘That’s the […]...
21. Mr Flood's Party Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night Over the hill between the town below And the forsaken upland hermitage That held as much as he should ever know On earth again of home, paused warily. The road was his with not a native near; And Eben, having leisure, said aloud, For no man else in […]...
22. Giving Myself Up I give up my eyes which are glass eggs. I give up my tongue. I give up my mouth which is the contstant dream of my tongue. I give up my throat which is the sleeve of my voice. I give up my heart which is a burning apple. I give up my lungs which […]...
23. Spring in the South Now in the oak the sap of life is welling, Tho’ to the bough the rusty leafage clings; Now on the elm the misty buds are swelling, See how the pine-wood grows alive with wings; Blue-jays fluttering, yodeling and crying, Meadow-larks sailing low above the faded grass, Red-birds whistling clear, silent robins flying, Who has […]...
24. With A Copy Of 'A House Of Pomegranates&#039 Go, little book, To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl, Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl: And bid him look Into thy pages: it may hap that he May find that golden maidens dance through thee....
25. The Selfsame Song A bird sings the selfsame song, With never a fault in its flow, That we listened to here those long Long years ago. A pleasing marvel is how A strain of such rapturous rote Should have gone on thus till now Unchanged in a note! But its not the selfsame bird. No: perished to dust […]...
26. Siren Song This is the one song everyone Would like to learn: the song That is irresistible: The song that forces men To leap overboard in squadrons Even though they see the beached skulls The song nobody knows Because anyone who has heard it Is dead, and the others can’t remember. Shall I tell you the secret […]...
27. Mary smith Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith, There used to live a pretty girl whose name was Mary Smith; And though it’s many years since last I saw that pretty girl, And though I feel I’m sadly worn by Western strife and whirl; Still, oftentimes, I think about the old familiar […]...
28. The Tree of Laughing Bells [A Poem for Aviators] How the Wings Were Made From many morning-glories That in an hour will fade, From many pansy buds Gathered in the shade, From lily of the valley And dandelion buds, From fiery poppy-buds Are the Wings of the Morning made. The Indian Girl Who Made Them These, the Wings of the […]...
29. Aladdin and the Jinn “Bring me soft song,” said Aladdin. “This tailor-shop sings not at all. Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish That will comfort the stale and the sad, For I would be mending my spirit, Forgetting these days that are bad, Forgetting companions […]...
30. The Fairy Bridal-Hymn [This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose] This is a song to the white-armed one Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring, Whose feet are slow on the hills of life, Whose round […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
33. La Paloma in London About Soho we went before the light; We went, unresting six, craving new fun, New scenes, new raptures, for the fevered night Of rollicking laughter, drink and song, was done. The vault was void, but for the dawn’s great star That shed upon our path its silver flame, When La Paloma on a low guitar […]...
34. A Life-Lesson There! little girl; don’t cry! They have broken your doll, I know; And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago; But childish troubles will soon pass by. There! little girl; don’t cry! There! little girl; don’t cry! They have broken your slate, I know; And the glad, wild ways […]...
35. The Age My age, my beast, is there anyone Who can peer into your eyes And with his own blood fuse Two centuries’ worth of vertebrae? The creating blood gushes From the throat of earthly things, And the parasite just trembles On the threshold of new days. While the creature still has life, The spine must be […]...
36. My Little March Girl Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart, There she is passing, the girl of my heart; See where she walks like a queen in the street, Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet. Tripping along with impetuous grace, Joy of her life beaming out of her face, Tresses all truant-like, curl upon curl, Wind-blown and rosy, […]...
37. The Future A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of Time; Brimming with wonder and joy He spreads out his arms to the light, Rivets his gaze on the banks of the stream. As what he sees is, so have his thoughts been. Whether he […]...
38. The Lark And I have seen, At dawn, The lark Spin out of the long grass And into the pink air – Its wings, Which are neither wide Nor overstrong, Fluttering – The pectorals Ploughing and flashing For nothing but altitude – And the song Bursting All the while From the red throat. And then he descends, […]...
39. The Woman in the Ordinary The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl Is crouching with eyes and muscles clenched. Round and pebble smooth she effaces herself Under ripples of conversation and debate. The woman in the block of ivory soap Has massive thighs that neigh, Great breasts that blare and strong arms that trumpet. The woman of the golden […]...
40. An Indian Summer Day on the Prarie (IN THE BEGINNING) THE sun is a huntress young, The sun is a red, red joy, The sun is an indian girl, Of the tribe of the Illinois. (MID-MORNING) The sun is a smouldering fire, That creeps through the high gray plain, And leaves not a bush of cloud To blossom with flowers of rain. […]...