Asleep

Related poetry:

1. Falling Asleep Voices moving about in the quiet house: Thud of feet and a muffled shutting of doors: Everyone yawning. Only the clocks are alert. Out in the night there’s autumn-smelling gloom Crowded with whispering trees; across the park A hollow cry of hounds like lonely bells: And I know that the clouds are moving across the […]...
2. A Child Asleep How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood’s mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more – Sleeping near the withered nosegay, which he pulled the day before. Nosegays! leave them for the waking: Throw them earthward where they grew. Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto – […]...
3. Cat's Dream How neatly a cat sleeps, Sleeps with its paws and its posture, Sleeps with its wicked claws, And with its unfeeling blood, Sleeps with ALL the rings a series Of burnt circles which have formed The odd geology of its sand-colored tail. I should like to sleep like a cat, With all the fur of […]...
4. Dream Song 49: Blind Old Pussy-cat if he won’t eat, he don’t Feel good into his tum’, old Pussy-cat. He wants to have eaten. Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can’t. A dizzy swims of where is Henry at; . . . somewhere streng verboten. How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death: Locate the restorations of […]...
5. The Waking I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of […]...
6. 546. Song-Jockie's taen the parting Kiss JOCKEY’S taen the parting kiss, O’er the mountains he is gane, And with him is a’ my bliss, Nought but griefs with me remain, Spare my Love, ye winds that blaw, Plashy sleets and beating rain! Spare my Love, thou feath’ry snaw, Drifting o’er the frozen plain! When the shades of evening creep O’er the […]...
7. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high wold, And on these dews that drench the furze. And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and […]...
8. Making Light Of It I call out a secret name, the name Of the angel who guards my sleep, And light grows in the east, a new light Like no other, as soft as the petals Of the blown rose in late summer. Yes, it is late summer in the West. Even the grasses climbing the Sierras Reach for […]...
9. Modern Love XV: I Think She Sleeps I think she sleeps: it must be sleep, when low Hangs that abandoned arm toward the floor; The face turned with it. Now make fast the door. Sleep on: it is your husband, not your foe. The Poet’s black stage-lion of wronged love, Frights not our modern dames: well if he did! Now will I […]...
10. THE BRETHREN SLUMBER and Sleep, two brethren ordain’d by the gods to their Service, Were by Prometheus implored, comfort to give to his race; But though so light to the gods, too heavy for man was their burden, We in their slumber find sleep, we in their sleep meet with death. 1789.*...
11. Boaz Asleep Boaz, overcome with weariness, by torchlight Made his pallet on the threshing floor Where all day he had worked, and now he slept Among the bushels of threshed wheat. The old man owned wheatfields and barley, And though he was rich, he was still fair-minded. No filth soured the sweetness of his well. No hot […]...
12. When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb When I am asleep and crumbling in the tomb, should you come To visit me, I will come forth with speed. You are for me the blast of the trumpet and the resurrection, So what shall I do? Dead or living, wherever you are, there am I. Without your lip I am a frozen and […]...
13. Love and Sleep I have laid sorrow to sleep; Love sleeps. She who oft made me weep Now weeps. I loved, and have forgot, And yet Love tells me she will not Forget. She it was bid me go; Love goes By what strange ways, ah! no One knows. Because I cease to weep, She weeps. Here by […]...
14. A Baby Asleep after Pain As a drenched, drowned bee Hangs numb and heavy from a bending flower, So clings to me My baby, her brown hair brushed with wet tears And laid against her cheek; Her soft white legs hanging heavily over my arm Swinging heavily to my movements as I walk. My sleeping baby hangs upon my life, […]...
15. Sleep Come Sleep; O Sleep! the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release, Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low; With shield of proof shield me from out the prease Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw: O make in me […]...
16. Come Sleep, O Sleep! The Certain Knot Of Peace Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release, Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low; With shield of proof shield me from out the press Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw! O make in me […]...
17. Sonnet XXXIX: Come, Sleep! Come Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release, Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low. With shield of proof shield me from out the prease Of those fierce darts despair at me doth throw: O make in me […]...
18. Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep The little love god lying once asleep Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste life to keep Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand, The fairest votary took up that fire Which many legions of true hearts had warmed, And so the general of hot desire Was sleeping […]...
19. Barbury Camp We burrowed night and day with tools of lead, Heaped the bank up and cast it in a ring And hurled the earth above. And Caesar said, “Why, it is excellent. I like the thing.” We, who are dead, Made it, and wrought, and Caesar liked the thing. And here we strove, and here we […]...
20. Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep, A maid of Dian’s this advantage found, And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love A dateless lively heat still to endure, And grew a seeting bath, which yet men prove Against strange […]...
21. The Awakening River The gulls are mad-in-love with the river, And the river unveils her face and smiles. In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings. She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her. He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her. There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter. […]...
22. Swinging the Lead Said the soldier to the Surgeon, “I’ve got noises in me head And a kind o’ filled up feeling after every time I’m fed; I can sleep all night on picket, but I can’t sleep in my bed”. And the Surgeon said, “That’s Lead!” Said the soldier to the Surgeon, “Do you think they’ll send […]...
23. Our Hills Dear Mother-Earth Of Titan birth, Yon hills are your large breasts, and often I Have climbed to their top-nipples, fain and dry To drink my mother’s-milk so near the sky. O ye hill-stains, Red, for all rains! The blood that made you has all bled for us, The hearts that paid you are all dead […]...
24. Clouded dreams At dawn I dreamed of wispy clouds, I had the time to wield and watched The regimented lines of cirrus racing From the north by west; elusive Strands of airy ice that spread Up high across the gravid sky. Each seemed less obsessed than Speeding to a destination far-away, Constrained in ever shifting shapes that […]...
25. All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the water’s Monotone. The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing Where I go. I hear the noise of many waters Far below. All day, all night, I hear them […]...
26. It Is Not A Word It is not a word spoken, Few words are said; Nor even a look of the eyes Nor a bend of the head, But only a hush of the heart That has too much to keep, Only memories waking That sleep so light a sleep....
27. I Have A Rendezvous With Death I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air – I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my […]...
28. The Man Bitten By Fleas A Peevish Fellow laid his Head On Pillows, stuff’d with Down; But was no sooner warm in Bed, With hopes to rest his Crown, But Animals of slender size, That feast on humane Gore, From secret Ambushes arise, Nor suffer him to snore; Who starts, and scrubs, and frets, and swears, ‘Till, finding all in […]...
29. Rendezvous I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And […]...
30. By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore By that Lake, whose gloomy shore Sky-lark never warbles o’er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. “Here, at least,” he calmly said, “Woman ne’er shall find my bed.” Ah! the good Saint little knew What that wily sex can do. ‘Twas from Kathleen’s eyes he flew Eyes of […]...
31. Exhortation: Summer 1919 Through the pregnant universe rumbles life’s terrific thunder, And Earth’s bowels quake with terror; strange and terrible storms break, Lightning-torches flame the heavens, kindling souls of men, thereunder: Africa! long ages sleeping, O my motherland, awake! In the East the clouds glow crimson with the new dawn that is breaking, And its golden glory fills […]...
32. May and the Poets There is May in books forever; May will part from Spenser never; May’s in Milton, May’s in Prior, May’s in Chaucer, Thomson, Dyer; May’s in all the Italian books: She has old and modern nooks, Where she sleeps with nymphs and elves, In happy places they call shelves, And will rise and dress your rooms […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. All That's Past Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier’s boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries Roves back the rose. Very old are the brooks; And the rills that rise Where snow sleeps cold beneath The azure skies […]...
35. Poem Without A Title I say to the lead Why did you let yourself Be cast into a bullet? Have you forgotten the alchemists? Have you given up hope In turning into gold? Nobody answers. Lead. Bullet. With names Such as these The sleep is deep and long....
36. Sorley's Weather When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter-skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make a gentle song Here in my firelit study, When outside the winds blow strong And the lanes are muddy? With old wine and drowsy meats Am I to fill my belly? Shall I glutton here […]...
37. To Morning O holy virgin! clad in purest white, Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and issue forth; Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey’d dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning, salute the sun Rous’d like a huntsman to the chase, and with […]...
38. Sonnets ix FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
39. Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate, The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting, And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
40. The Rainy Day The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; […]...