Beat! Beat! Drums!

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1. Dirge for Two Veterans 1 THE last sunbeam Lightly falls from the finish’d Sabbath, On the pavement here-and there beyond, it is looking, Down a new-made double grave. 2 Lo! the moon ascending! Up from the east, the silvery round moon; Beautiful over the house tops, ghastly phantom moon; Immense and silent moon. 3 I see a sad procession, […]...
2. 270. Song-The Captain's Lady Chorus.-O mount and go, mount and make you ready, O mount and go, and be the Captain’s lady. WHEN the drums do beat, and the cannons rattle, Thou shalt sit in state, and see thy love in battle: When the drums do beat, and the cannons rattle, Thou shalt sit in state, and see thy […]...
3. My Triumph lasted till the Drums My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated Glory And wished myself were They. What is to be is best descried When it has also been Could Prospect taste […]...
4. The Painter on Silk There was a man Who made his living By painting roses Upon silk. He sat in an upper chamber And painted, And the noises of the street Meant nothing to him. When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums, He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses Bursting in the sunshine, And smiled as […]...
5. The Dead Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That […]...
6. England, My England WHAT have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere, As the Lord were walking near, Whispering terrible things and dear As the Song on your bugles blown, England Round the world on your bugles blown! Where shall the watchful sun, […]...
7. Like The Train's Beat Like the train’s beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corner seat, The swinging and narrowing sun Lights her eyelashes, shapes Her sharp vivacity of bone. Hair, wild and controlled, runs back: And gestures like these English oaks Flash past the windows of her foreign talk. The train runs on […]...
8. How The Favourite Beat Us “Aye,” said the boozer, “I tell you it’s true, sir, I once was a punter with plenty of pelf, But gone is my glory, I’ll tell you the story How I stiffened my horse and got stiffened myself. “‘Twas a mare called the Cracker, I came down to back her, But found she was favourite […]...
9. Denied The winds came out of the west one day, And hurried the clouds before them; And drove the shadows and mists away, And over the mountains bore them. And I wept, ‘Oh, wind, blow into my mind, Blow into my soul and heart, And scatter the clouds that hang lile shrouds, And make the shadows […]...
10. The Princess: A Medley: Thy Voice is Heard Thy voice is heard thro’ rolling drums, That beat to battle where he stands; Thy face across his fancy comes, And gives the battle to his hands: A moment, while the trumpets blow, He sees his brood about thy knee; The next, like fire he meets the foe, And strikes him dead for thine and […]...
11. Killers I AM singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child speaks; Hard as a man in handcuffs, Held where he cannot move: Under the sun Are sixteen million men, Chosen for shining teeth, Sharp eyes, hard legs, And a running of young warm blood in their wrists. And a red juice runs […]...
12. The Dead-Beat He dropped, more sullenly than wearily, Lay stupid like a cod, heavy like meat, And none of us could kick him to his feet; Just blinked at my revolver, blearily; Didn’t appear to know a war was on, Or see the blasted trench at which he stared. “I’ll do ’em in,” he whined, “If this […]...
13. About the Little Girl that Beat Her Sister Go, go, my naughty girl, and kiss Your little sister dear; I must not have such things as this, And noisy quarrels here. What! little children scratch and fight, That ought to be so mild; Oh! Mary, it’s a shocking sight To see an angry child. I can’t imagine, for my part, The reason for […]...
14. Blizzard Notes I DON’T blame the kettle drums-they are hungry. And the snare drums-I know what they want-they are empty too. And the harring booming bass drums-they are hungriest of all.. . . The howling spears of the Northwest die down. The lullabies of the Southwest get a chance, a mother song. A cradle moon rides out […]...
15. The Fury Of Rainstorms The rain drums down like red ants, Each bouncing off my window. The ants are in great pain And they cry out as they hit As if their little legs were only Stitche don and their heads pasted. And oh they bring to mind the grave, So humble, so willing to be beat upon With […]...
16. Macdonough's Song “As easy as A B C” A Diversity of Creatures” Whether the State can loose and bind In Heaven as well as on Earth: If it be wiser to kill mankind Before or after the birth These are matters of high concern Where State-kept schoolmen are; But Holy State (we have lived to learn) Endeth […]...
17. A LOOK INTO THE GULF I LOOKED one night, and there the Semiramis, With all her mourning doves about her head, Sat rocking on an ancient road of Hell, Withered and eyeless, chanting to the moon Snatches of song they sang to her of old Upon the lighted roofs of Nineveh. And then her voice rang out with rattling laugh: […]...
18. Astræ Himself it was who wrote His rank, and quartered his own coat. There is no king nor sovereign state That can fix a hero’s rate; Each to all is venerable, Cap-a-pie invulnerable, Until he write, where all eyes rest, Slave or master on his breast. I saw men go up and down In the country […]...
19. Talk not to me of Summer Trees Talk not to me of Summer Trees The foliage of the mind A Tabernacle is for Birds Of no corporeal kind And winds do go that way at noon To their Ethereal Homes Whose Bugles call the least of us To undepicted Realms...
20. Anthem For Doomed Youth What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them […]...
21. To Heaven Good and great God, can I not think of thee But it must straight my melancholy be? Is it interpreted in me disease That, laden with my sins, I seek for ease? Oh be thou witness, that the reins dost know And hearts of all, if I be sad for show, And judge me after; […]...
22. 67. Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs, Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an’ looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues May seize you quick. Poor gapin’, glowrin’ Superstition! Wae’s me, she’s in a sad condition: Fye: bring Black Jock, 1 her state physician, To see her water; Alas, […]...
23. The Wander-Light And they heard the tent-poles clatter, And the fly in twain was torn – ‘Tis the soiled rag of a tatter Of the tent where I was born. And what matters it, I wonder? Brick or stone or calico? – Or a bush you were born under, When it happened long ago? And my beds […]...
24. TO FATHER* KRONOS [written in a post-chaise.] (* In the original, Schwager, which has the Twofold meaning of brother-in-law and postilion.) HASTEN thee, Kronos! On with clattering trot Downhill goeth thy path; Loathsome dizziness ever, When thou delayest, assails me. Quick, rattle along, Over stock and stone let thy trot Into life straightway lead Now once more Up […]...
25. The Trumpet Rise up, rise up, And, as the trumpet blowing Chases the dreams of men, As the dawn glowing The stars that left unlit The land and water, Rise up and scatter The dew that covers The print of last night’s lovers – Scatter it, scatter it! While you are listening To the clear horn, Forget, […]...
26. Sonnet LXIII: Truce, Gentle Love Truce, gentle Love, a parley now I crave; Methinks ’tis long since first these wars begun; Nor thou nor I the better yet can have; Bad is the match where neither party won. I offer free conditions of fair peace, My heart for hostage that it shall remain; Discharge our forces, here let malice cease, […]...
27. The Judgement The Judge looked down, his face was grim, He scratched his ear; The gangster’s moll looked up at him With eyes of fear. She thought: ‘This guy in velvet gown, With balding pate, Who now on me is looking down, Can seal my fate.’ The Judge thought: ‘Fifteen years or ten I might decree. Just […]...
28. Globalillusion All the world’s a stage shrinking & life remains a same rendition Without rehearsal whose script is written by no-one except Dimmest reveries which scatter in everyone’s mind Some favor major roles some don’t mind minors Some choose chorus some orchestra members The rest must become audience privileged In a cozy balcony at ease as […]...
29. Lines On Reading Too Many Poets Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; Golden lad and chimbley sweep Die; and so their song shall keep. Wind that in Arcadia starts In and out a couplet plays; And the drums of bitter hearts Beat the measure of a phrase. […]...
30. The Warden of the Cinque Ports A mist was driving down the British Channel, The day was just begun, And through the window-panes, on floor and panel, Streamed the red autumn sun. It glanced on flowing flag and rippling pennon, And the white sails of ships; And, from the frowning rampart, the black cannon Hailed it with feverish lips. Sandwich and […]...
31. Butch Weldy After I got religion and steadied down They gave me a job in the canning works, And every morning I had to fill The tank in the yard with gasoline, That fed the blow-fires in the sheds To heat the soldering irons. And I mounted a rickety ladder to do it, Carrying buckets full of […]...
32. On the March So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight Labour’s banners float and flow; They are marching with the sun, But I look in vain for one Of the men who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago. They were men who did the […]...
33. The Heart is the Capital of the Mind The Heart is the Capital of the Mind The Mind is a single State The Heart and the Mind together make A single Continent One is the Population Numerous enough This ecstatic Nation Seek it is Yourself....
34. Fair Weather This level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken […]...
35. The Riddle of the World Know then thyself, presume not God to scan The proper study of Mankind is Man. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A Being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest; […]...
36. Echo Dell In a lone valley fair and far, Where many sweet beguilements are, I know a spot to lag and dream Through damask morns and noons agleam; For feet fall lightly on the fern And twilight is a wondrous thing, When the winds blow from some far bourne Beyond the hill rims westering; There echoes ring […]...
37. No Worst, There Is None. Pitched Past Pitch Of Grief No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief, More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring. Comforter, where, where is your comforting? Mary, mother of us, where is your relief? My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing- Then lull, then leave […]...
38. The Battle of Gujrat ‘Twas in the year of 1849, and on the 20th of February, Lord Gough met and attacked Shere Sing right manfully. The Sikh Army numbered 40,000 in strength, And showing a front about two miles length. It was a glorious morning, the sun was shining in a cloudless sky; And the larks were singing merrily […]...
39. Whose are the little beds, I asked Whose are the little beds, I asked Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others smiled And no one made reply. Perhaps they did not hear, I said, I will inquire again Whose are the beds the tiny beds So thick upon the plain? ‘Tis Daisy, in the shortest A little further […]...
40. The Dover Bitch: A Criticism Of Life So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them, And he said to her, “Try to be true to me, And I’ll do the same for you, for things are bad All over, etc., etc.” Well now, I knew this girl. It’s true she had read Sophocles […]...