By the Bivouac's Fitful Flame

Related poetry:

1. The Fitful Alternations Of The Rain The fitful alternations of the rain, When the chill wind, languid as with pain Of its own heavy moisture, here and there Drives through the gray and beamless atmosphere...
2. Keen, Fitful Gusts are Whisp'ring Here and There Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there Among the bushes half leafless, and dry; The stars look very cold about the sky, And I have many miles on foot to fare. Yet feel I little of the cool bleak air, Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily, Or of those silver lamps that burn […]...
3. The Story Of The Ashes And The Flame No matter why, nor whence, nor when she came, There was her place. No matter what men said, No matter what she was; living or dead, Faithful or not, he loved her all the same. The story was as old as human shame, But ever since that lonely night she fled, With books to blind […]...
4. THE LIVING FLAME THEY pass before me, these Eyes full of light, Eyes made magnetic by some angel wise; The holy brothers pass before my sight, And cast their diamond fires in my dim eyes. They keep me from all sin and error grave, They set me in the path whence Beauty came; They are my servants, and […]...
5. A flame is in my blood A flame is in my blood Burning dry life, to the bone. I do not sing of stone, Now, I sing of wood. It is light and coarse: Made of a single spar, The oak’s deep heart, And the fisherman’s oar. Drive them deep, the piles: Hammer them in tight, Around wooden Paradise, Where everything […]...
6. Flame-Heart So much have I forgotten in ten years, So much in ten brief years! I have forgot What time the purple apples come to juice, And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. I have forgot the special, startling season Of the pimento’s flowering and fruiting; What time of year the ground doves brown the fields […]...
7. Death It is not death, that sometime in a sigh This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight; That sometime these bright stars, that now reply In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night; That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite, And all life’s ruddy springs forget to flow; That thoughts shall cease, and […]...
8. Hidden Flame Feed a flame within, which so torments me That it both pains my heart, and yet contains me: ‘Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it, That I had rather die than once remove it. Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes […]...
9. There Is a Solemn Wind Tonight There is a solemn wind to-night That sings of solemn rain; The trees that have been quiet so long Flutter and start again. The slender trees, the heavy trees, The fruit trees laden and proud, Lift up their branches to the wind That cries to them so loud. The little bushes and the plants Bow […]...
10. Two Lovers Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes sing. O budding time! O love’s blest prime! Two wedded from the portal stept: The bells made happy carolings, The air was soft as fanning wings, White petals on the pathway slept. […]...
11. There was a great cathedral There was a great cathedral. To solemn songs, A white procession Moved toward the altar. The chief man there Was erect, and bore himself proudly. Yet some could see him cringe, As in a place of danger, Throwing frightened glances into the air, A-start at threatening faces of the past....
12. Fire This life that we call our own Is neither strong nor free; A flame in the wind of death, It trembles ceaselessly. And this all we can do To use our little light Before, in the piercing wind, It flickers into night: To yield the heat of the flame, To grudge not, but to give […]...
13. Evening Solace THE human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed;­ The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed. And days may pass in gay confusion, And nights in rosy riot fly, While, lost in Fame’s or Wealth’s illusion, The memory of the Past may die. But, there […]...
14. The Burial of the Reverend Gilfillan On the Gilfillan burial day, In the Hill o’ Balgay, It was a most solemn sight to see, Not fewer than thirty thousand people assembled in Dundee, All watching the funeral procession of Gilfillan that day, That death had suddenly taken away, And was going to be buried in the Hill o’ Balgay. There were […]...
15. Dream Song 61: Full moon. Our Narragansett gales subside Full moon. Our Narragansett gales subside And the land is celebrating men of war More or less, less or more. In valleys, thin on headlands, narrow & wide Our targets rest. In us we trust. Far, near, The bivouacs of fear Are solemn in the moon somewhere tonight, In turning time. It’s late for gratitude, […]...
16. The To-Be-Forgotten I I heard a small sad sound, And stood awhile among the tombs around: “Wherefore, old friends,” said I, “are you distrest, Now, screened from life’s unrest?” II “O not at being here; But that our future second death is near; When, with the living, memory of us numbs, And blank oblivion comes! III “These, […]...
17. The Death of the Rev. Dr. Wilson ‘Twas in the year of 1888 and on the 17th of January That the late Rev. Dr. Wilson’s soul fled away; The generous-hearted Dr. had been ailing for some time, But death, with his dart, did pierce the heart of the learned divine. He was a man of open countenance and of great ability, And […]...
18. To the Garden the World TO the garden, the world, anew ascending, Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding, The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being, Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber; The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, have brought me again, Amorous, mature-all beautiful to me-all wondrous; My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays […]...
19. My House I have a house I’ve lived in long: I can’t recall my going in. ‘Twere better bartered for a song Ere ruin, rot and rust begin. When it was fresh and fine and fair, I used it with neglect, I fear; But now I husband it with care And cherish it form year to year. […]...
20. My Lost Youth Often I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, And […]...
21. The Funeral of the German Emperor Ye sons of Germany, your noble Emperor William now is dead. Who oft great armies to battle hath led; He was a man beloved by his subjects all, Because he never tried them to enthral. The people of Germany have cause now to mourn, The loss of their hero, who to them will ne’er return; […]...
22. Time And Life I. Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken, Time, thy name. Girt about with shadow, blind and lame, Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame. Eyes of […]...
23. Consolation All are not taken; there are left behind Living Belovиds, tender looks to bring And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind: But if it were not so-if I could find No love in all this world for comforting, Nor any path but hollowly did ring Where […]...
24. A Dead Friend I. Gone, O gentle heart and true, Friend of hopes foregone, Hopes and hopeful days with you Gone? Days of old that shone Saw what none shall see anew, When we gazed thereon. Soul as clear as sunlit dew, Why so soon pass on, Forth from all we loved and knew Gone? II. Friend of […]...
25. Hymn 44 part 1 Christ’s dying, rising, and reigning. Luke 23:27,29,44-46; Mt. 27:50,57; 28:6ff. He dies! the friend of sinners dies! Lo! Salem’s daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies; A sudden trembling shakes the ground. Come, saints, and drop a tear or two For him who groaned beneath your load: He shed a thousand drops for […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night: When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day, One look I but gave, which your dear eyes return’d, with a look I shall never forget; One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach’d up as you lay on the […]...
29. Crimson CRIMSON is the slow smolder of the cigar end I hold, Gray is the ash that stiffens and covers all silent the fire. (A great man I know is dead and while he lies in his Coffin a gone flame I sit here in cumbering shadows And smoke and watch my thoughts come and go.)...
30. The Hourglass Do but consider this small dust Here running in the glass, By atoms moved; Could you believe that this The body was Of one that loved? And in his mistress’ flame, playing like a fly, Turned to cinders by her eye? Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed, To have’t expressed, Even ashes of lovers […]...
31. The Funeral of the Late Prince Henry of Battenberg Alas! Prince Henry of Battenberg is dead! And, I hope, has gone to heaven, its streets to tread, And to sing with God’s saints above, Where all is joy and peace and love. ‘Twas in the year of 1896, and on the 5th of February, Prince Henry was buried at Whippingham – a solemn sight […]...
32. Sonnet: At Dover Cliffs, July 20th 1787 On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet, Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat, Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood; And whilst the lifted murmur met his ear, And o’er the distant billows the still eve Sailed slow, has thought of all […]...
33. Counting The Beats You, love, and I, (He whispers) you and I, And if no more than only you and I What care you or I? Counting the beats, Counting the slow heart beats, The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats, Wakeful they lie. Cloudless day, Night, and a cloudless day; Yet the huge storm […]...
34. The Rhyme of the O'Sullivan Pro Bono Publico Went out the streets to scan, And marching to and fro He met a seedy man, Who did a tale unfold In solemn tones and slow And this is what he told Pro Bono Publico. “For many years I led The people’s onward march; I was the ‘Fountain Head’, The ‘Democratic Arch’. […]...
35. Past Carin&#039 Now up and down the siding brown The great black crows are flyin’, And down below the spur, I know, Another ‘milker’s’ dyin’; The crops have withered from the ground, The tank’s clay bed is glarin’, But from my heart no tear nor sound, For I have gone past carin’ Past worryin’ or carin’, Past […]...
36. Ballade at Thirty-five This, no song of an ingénue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience, This, a chantey of sophistry, This, the sum of experiments, I loved them until they loved me. Decked in garments of sable hue, Daubed with ashes of […]...
37. Hymn 39 God’s tender care of his church. Isa. 49:13ff. Now shall my inward joys arise, And burst into a song; Almighty love inspires my heart, And pleasure tunes my tongue. God on his thirsty Zion hill Some mercy drops has thrown, And solemn oaths have bound his love To shower salvation down. Why do we then […]...
38. Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
39. Night on The Prairies NIGHT on the prairies; The supper is over-the fire on the ground burns low; The wearied emigrants sleep, wrapt in their blankets: I walk by myself-I stand and look at the stars, which I think now I never realized before. Now I absorb immortality and peace, I admire death, and test propositions. How plenteous! How […]...
40. She At His Funeral THEY bear him to his resting-place In slow procession sweeping by; I follow at a stranger’s space; His kindred they, his sweetheart I. Unchanged my gown of garish dye, Though sable-sad is their attire; But they stand round with griefless eye, Whilst my regret consumes like fire!...