As Consequent, Etc

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1. Or from that Sea of Time 1 OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind-a double winrow-drift of weeds and shells; (O little shells, so curious-convolute! so limpid-cold and voiceless! Yet will you not, to the tympans of temples held, Murmurs and echoes still bring up-Eternity’s music, faint and far, Wafted inland, sent from Atlantica’s rim-strains for the […]...
2. After the Sea-Ship AFTER the Sea-Ship-after the whistling winds; After the white-gray sails, taut to their spars and ropes, Below, a myriad, myriad waves, hastening, lifting up their necks, Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship: Waves of the ocean, bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying, Waves, undulating waves-liquid, uneven, emulous waves, Toward that whirling current, […]...
3. Our Eyes Our eyes are limpid drops of water. In each drop exists a tiny sign of our genius Which has given life to cold iron. Our eyes are limpid drops of water Merged absolutely in the Ocean That you could hardly recognize the drop in a block of ice in a boiling pan. The masterpiece of […]...
4. Shells Reaching down arm-deep into bright water I gathered on white sand under waves Shells, drifted up on beaches where I alone Inhabit a finite world of years and days. I reached my arm down a myriad years To gather treasure from the yester-milliennial sea-floor, Held in my fingers forms shaped on the day of creation. […]...
5. Convalescence From out the dragging vastness of the sea, Wave-fettered, bound in sinuous, seaweed strands, He toils toward the rounding beach, and stands One moment, white and dripping, silently, Cut like a cameo in lazuli, Then falls, betrayed by shifting shells, and lands Prone in the jeering water, and his hands Clutch for support where no […]...
6. In Cabin'd Ships at Sea 1 IN cabin’d ships, at sea, The boundless blue on every side expanding, With whistling winds and music of the waves-the large imperious waves-In such, Or some lone bark, buoy’d on the dense marine, Where, joyous, full of faith, spreading white sails, She cleaves the ether, mid the sparkle and the foam of day, or […]...
7. William Jones Once in a while a curious weed unknown to me, Needing a name from my books; Once in a while a letter from Yeomans. Out of the mussel-shells gathered along the shore Sometimes a pearl with a glint like meadow rue: Then betimes a letter from Tyndall in England, Stamped with the stamp of Spoon […]...
8. Barnacles My soul is sailing through the sea, But the Past is heavy and hindereth me. The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells About my soul. The huge waves wash, the high waves roll, Each barnacle clingeth and worketh dole And hindereth me from sailing! Old Past let go, and […]...
9. Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow'ring Cedars Farewell, ye tow’ring Cedars, in whose shade, Lull’d by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest, While spicy breezes hover’d o’er my breast To fan my cheek, in deep’ning tints array’d; While am’rous insects, humming round me, play’d, Each flow’r forsook, of prouder sweets in quest; Of glowing lips, in humid fragrance drest, That mock’d the […]...
10. When the Fishing Boats Go Out When the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more, And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore, And o’er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float. There’s joyance and there’s freedom when the fishing boats go out. The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves, And […]...
11. Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd 1 OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, For I could not die till I once look’d on you, For I fear’d I might afterward lose you. […]...
12. Weeds FROM the time of the early radishes To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village against weeds. The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed. The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing And the weeds come on and on in […]...
13. Canzonet SLOW the limpid currents twining, Brawl along the lonely dell, ‘Till in one wild stream combining, Nought its rapid course can quell; So at first LOVE’S poisons stealing, Round the heart unheeded play, While we hope our pangs concealing, Vainly hope to check his sway. If amidst the glassy river Aught impedes its placid course, […]...
14. The Ever-Patient Woman In the flowing sap In her growing fever Parting her veils Cracking out of her shells Sliding out of her skins The ever-patient woman Slowly Gives herself Life In her volcanoes In her orchards Seeking solidity and measure Clasping her most tender flesh Straining every fine-honed fiber The ever-patient woman Slowly Gives herself Light....
15. On the Road to Nowhere On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father’s house With your cheeks aglow? Eyes so strained and eager To see what you might see? Were you thief or were you fool Or most nobly free? Were the tramp-days knightly, True sowing of wild seed? Did you dare […]...
16. A Green Stream I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers, Borne by the channel of a green stream, Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains On a journey of less than thirty miles…. Rapids hum over heaped rocks; But where light grows dim in the thick pines, The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns And weeds […]...
17. Lovers on Aran The timeless waves, bright, sifting, broken glass, Came dazzling around, into the rocks, Came glinting, sifting from the Americas To posess Aran. Or did Aran rush To throw wide arms of rock around a tide That yielded with an ebb, with a soft crash? Did sea define the land or land the sea? Each drew […]...
18. Still hear the waves It was a brave day under an endlessly clear sky That extended forever from our valley To the unfathomably distant sea. It was a day to remember amongst days of Classical splendour and wonderment, From an unoccupied beach and the virgin Sand crisp and crumbling under flying feet, To the tumbling vastness of twinkling ocean […]...
19. Two Rivulets TWO Rivulets side by side, Two blended, parallel, strolling tides, Companions, travelers, gossiping as they journey. For the Eternal Ocean bound, These ripples, passing surges, streams of Death and Life, Object and Subject hurrying, whirling by, The Real and Ideal, Alternate ebb and flow the Days and Nights, (Strands of a Trio twining, Present, Future, […]...
20. Lyonesse In Lyonesse was beauty enough, men say: Long Summer loaded the orchards to excess, And fertile lowlands lengthening far away, In Lyonesse. Came a term to that land’s old favoredness: Past the sea-walls, crumbled in thundering spray, Rolled the green waves, ravening, merciless. Through bearded boughs immobile in cool decay, Where sea-bloom covers corroding palaces, […]...
21. Introductory Verses Oh, you who read some song that I have sung – What know you of the soul from whence it sprung? Dost dream the poet ever speaks aloud His secret thought unto the listening crowd? Go take the murmuring sea-shell from the shore- You have its shape, its colour – and no more. It tells […]...
22. Lament for Eorl the Young Where now is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing? They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow; The days […]...
23. Baby Sitter From torrid heat to frigid cold I’ve rovered land and sea; And now, with halting heart I hold My grandchild on my knee: Yet while I’ve eighty years all told, Of moons she has but three. She sleeps, that fragile miniature Of future maidenhood; She will be wonderful, I’m sure, As over her I brood; […]...
24. There are Days There are days when One should be able To pluck off one’s head Like a dented or worn Helmet, straight from The nape and collarbone (those crackling branches!) And place it firmly down In the bed of a flowing stream. Clear, clean, chill currents Coursing and spuming through The sour and stale compartments Of the […]...
25. The Bait Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove, Of golden sand, and crystal brooks, With silken lines and silver hooks. There will the river whispering run, Warmed by thy eyes more than the sun. And there the enamoured fish will stay. Begging themselves they may betray. When wilt […]...
26. One-word garments Waves of circumflexes Storms of adverbs, Windmills of verbs, Shells of signs of ellipsis, On the island of poems Of soul, Of mind, Of thought, One-word garments You wear To endure!...
27. Lover's Gifts IV: She Is Near to My Heart She is near to my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is Sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life Flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with Serene abandonment. My songs are one with my love, like the murmur Of […]...
28. White Night All night I float In the shallow ponds While the moon wanders Burning, Bone white, Among the milky stems. Once I saw her hand reach To touch the muskrat’s Small sleek head And it was lovely, oh, I don’t want to argue anymore About all the things I thought I could not Live without! Soon […]...
29. The Map Land lies in water; it is shadowed green. Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges Showing the line of long sea-weeded ledges Where weeds hang to the simple blue from green. Or does the land lean down to lift the sea from under, Drawing it unperturbed around itself? Along the fine tan sandy shelf […]...
30. Jennie M'Grew Not, where the stairway turns in the dark, A hooded figure, shriveled under a flowing cloak! Not yellow eyes in the room at night, Staring out from a surface of cobweb gray! And not the flap of a condor wing, When the roar of life in your ears begins As a sound heard never before! […]...
31. The Songs of the Lathes 1918Being the Words of the Tune Hummed at Her Lathe by Mrs. L. Embsay, Widow The fans and the beltings they roar round me. The power is shaking the floor round me Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over. It is good for me to be here! Guns in Flanders […]...
32. Land, Ho! I know ’tis but a loom of land, Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice, I know I cannot hear His voice Upon the shore, nor see Him stand; Yet is it land, ho! land. The land! the land! the lovely land! ‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off-ah, blessиd home! Farewell! farewell! thou […]...
33. The Secret In the profoundest ocean There is a rainbow shell, It is always there, shining most stilly Under the greatest storm waves That the old Greek called “ripples of laughter.” As you listen, the rainbow shell Sings in the profoundest ocean. It is always there, singing most silently!...
34. Stream Of Life The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day Runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth In numberless blades of grass And breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same […]...
35. That Distance Apart I am only nineteen My whole life is changing Tonight I see her Shuttered eyes in my dreams I cannot pretend she’s never been My stitches pull and threaten to snap My own body a witness Leaking blood to sheets milk to shirts My stretch marks Record that birth Though I feel like somebody is […]...
36. The Merman I Who would be A merman bold, Sitting alone Singing alone Under the sea, With a crown of gold, On a throne? II I would be a merman bold, I would sit and sing the whole of the day; I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power; But at night I would roam […]...
37. Listening ‘T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong Sings but of you. Throughout your whole life long Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, each divide This perfect beauty; waves within a […]...
38. Time Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years, Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe Are brackish with the salt of human tears! Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow Claspest the limits of mortality, And sick of prey, yet howling on for more, Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore; Treacherous in calm, […]...
39. The Excesses Of God Is it not by his high superfluousness we know Our God? For to be equal a need Is natural, animal, mineral: but to fling Rainbows over the rain And beauty above the moon, and secret rainbows On the domes of deep sea-shells, And make the necessary embrace of breeding Beautiful also as fire, Not even […]...
40. Mother Earth Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed, Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field, Mother of all the manifold forms of life, deep-bosomed, patient, impassive, Silent brooder and nurse of lyrical joys and sorrows! Out of thee, yea, surely out of the fertile depth below […]...