The Song of Finis

Related poetry:

1. Rest ON me to rest, my bird, my bird: The swaying branches of my heart Are blown by every wind toward The home whereto their wings depart. Build not your nest, my bird, on me; I know no peace but ever sway: O lovely bird, be free, be free, On the wild music of the day. […]...
2. 317. Song-The Banks o' Doon (Second Version) YE flowery banks o’ bonie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough! Thou minds me o’ the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Thou’ll break my heart, thou […]...
3. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Finis Now it’s over, and now it’s done; Why does everything look the same? Just as bright, the unheeding sun, Can’t it see that the parting came? People hurry and work and swear, Laugh and grumble and die and wed, Ponder what they will eat and wear, Don’t they know that our love is dead? Just […]...
6. Finis An idle rhyme of the summer time, Sweet, and solemn, and tender; Fair with the haze of the moon’s pale rays, Bright with the sunset’s splendour. Summer and beauty over the lands – Careless hours of pleasure; A meeting of eyes and a touching of hands – A change in the floating measure. A deeper […]...
7. 316. Song-The Banks o' Doon (First Version) SWEET are the banks-the banks o’ Doon, The spreading flowers are fair, And everything is blythe and glad, But I am fu’ o’ care. Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o’ the happy days When my fause Luve was true: Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie […]...
8. Song Unsung The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; Only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. The blossom has not opened; only the wind […]...
9. A Song of Enchantment A song of Enchantment I sang me there, In a green-green wood, by waters fair, Just as the words came up to me I sang it under the wild wood tree. Widdershins turned I, singing it low, Watching the wild birds come and go; No cloud in the deep dark blue to be seen Under […]...
10. A Noon Song There are songs for the morning and songs for the night, For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon; But who will give praise to the fulness of light, And sing us a song of the glory of noon? Oh, the high noon, the clear noon, The noon with golden crest; When the blue […]...
11. Glycine's Song A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted: And poised therein a bird so bold Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted! He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he troll’d Within that shaft of sunny mist; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, All else of amethyst! And thus he sang: ‘Adieu! […]...
12. A Birthday Song. To S. G For ever wave, for ever float and shine Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine, A creeping rose, that clomb a height of dread Out of the sea of Birth, all filled with dead, Up to the brilliant cloud of Death o’erhead. This vine bore […]...
13. Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird I consider a song will be as humming-bird Swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange As the world of anti-matter Where they are wondering: does time run backward— Which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple; But can Henry write it? Wreckt, in deep danger, he shook once his head, Returning to meditation. And word had sped All […]...
14. 318. Song-The Banks o' Doon (Third Version) YE banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro’ the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o’ departed joys, Departed never to return. Aft hae I […]...
15. The Voice of the Waters WHERE the Greyhound River windeth through a loneliness so deep, Scarce a wild fowl shakes the quiet that the purple boglands keep, Only God exults in silence over fields no man may reap. Where the silver wave with sweetness fed the tiny lives of grass I was bent above, my image mirrored in the fleeting […]...
16. Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played....
17. The Journey Anghiari is medieval, a sleeve sloping down A steep hill, suddenly sweeping out To the edge of a cliff, and dwindling. But far up the mountain, behind the town, We too were swept out, out by the wind, Alone with the Tuscan grass. Wind had been blowing across the hills For days, and everything now […]...
18. Bilbo's Last Song (At the Grey Havens) Day is ended, dim my eyes, But journey long before me lies. Farewell, friends! I hear the call. The ship’s beside the stony wall. Foam is white and waves are grey; Beyond the sunset leads my way. Foam is salt, the wind is free; I hear the rising of the sea. Farewell, friends! The sails […]...
19. A Song I had wanted a quiet testament And I had wanted, among other things, A song. That was to be Of a like monotony. (A grace Simply. Very very quiet. A murmur of some lost Thrush, though I have never seen one. Which was you then. Sitting And so, at peace, so very much now this […]...
20. Warning PURE at heart we wander now: Comrade on the quest divine, Turn not from the stars your brow That your eyes may rest on mine. Pure at heart we wander now: We have hopes beyond to-day; And our quest does not allow Rest or dreams along the way. We are, in our distant hope, One […]...
21. A Song From 'The Player Queen&#039 My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung. ‘He went away,’ my mother sang, ‘When I was brought to bed,’ And all the while her needle pulled The gold and silver thread. She pulled the thread and bit the thread And […]...
22. A Wanderer's Song A WIND’S in the heart of me, a fire’s in my heels, I am tired of brick and stone and rumbling wagon-wheels; I hunger for the sea’s edge, the limit of the land, Where the wild old Atlantic is shouting on the sand. Oh I’ll be going, leaving the noises of the street, To where […]...
23. Three Things ‘O cruel Death, give three things back,’ Sang a bone upon the shore; ‘A child found all a child can lack, Whether of pleasure or of rest, Upon the abundance of my breast’: A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind. ‘Three dear things that women know,’ Sang a bhone upon the shore; ‘A man […]...
24. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
25. The Lover's Song Bird sighs for the air, Thought for I know not where, For the womb the seed sighs. Now sinks the same rest On mind, on nest, On straining thighs....
26. Count Eberhard, The Groaner Of Wurtembert. A War Song Now hearken, ye who take delight In boasting of your worth! To many a man, to many a knight, Beloved in peace and brave in fight, The Swabian land gives birth. Of Charles and Edward, Louis, Guy, And Frederick, ye may boast; Charles, Edward, Louis, Frederick, Guy None with Sir Eberhard can vie Himself a […]...
27. A train went through a burial gate A train went through a burial gate, A bird broke forth and sang, And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat Till all the churchyard rang; And then adjusted his little notes, And bowed and sang again. Doubtless, he thought it meet of him To say good-by to men....
28. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand, Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand; Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies, But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. The […]...
32. Fairy Song The moonlight fades from flower and rose And the stars dim one by one; The tale is told, the song is sung, And the Fairy feast is done. The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, And sings to them, soft and low. The early birds erelong will wake: ‘T is time for the Elves to go. […]...
33. Dumb Gabriel whispered in mine ear His archangelic poesie. How can I write? I only hear The sobbing murmur of the sea. Raphael breathed and bade me pass His rapt evangel to mankind; I cannot even match, alas! The ululation of the wind. The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit On every poet’s holy head; No […]...
34. Ye Banks And Braes O'Bonnie Doon Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o’ the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Thou’ll break my heart, […]...
35. Song V: Through the Trouble and Tangle Love is enough: through the trouble and tangle From yesterday’s dawning to yesterday’s night I sought through the vales where the prisoned winds wrangle, Till, wearied and bleeding, at end of the light I met him, and we wrestled, and great was my might. O great was my joy, though no rest was around me, […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Song of the Red War-Boat Shove off from the wharf-edge! Steady! Watch for a smooth! Give way! If she feels the lop already She’ll stand on her head in the bay. It’s ebb it’s dusk it’s blowing The shoals are a mile of white, But ( snatch her along! ) we’re going To find our master to-night. For we hold […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. The Mountaineer OH, at the eagle’s height To lie i’ the sweet of the sun, While veil after veil takes flight And God and the world are one. Oh, the night on the steep! All that his eyes saw dim Grows light in the dusky deep, And God is alone with him....
40. Elegy Since I lost you, my darling, the sky has come near, And I am of it, the small sharp stars are quite near, The white moon going among them like a white bird among snow-berries, And the sound of her gently rustling in heaven like a bird I hear. And I am willing to come […]...