Byzantium

Related poetry:

1. Sailing To Byzantium I That is no country for old men. The young In one another’s arms, birds in the trees – Those dying generations – at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unageing […]...
2. The Giver of Stars Hold your soul open for my welcoming. Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me With its clear and rippled coolness, That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest, Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory. Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me, That into my limbs may come […]...
3. To a Very Wise Man I Fires in the dark you build; tall quivering flames In the huge midnight forest of the unknown. Your soul is full of cities with dead names, And blind-faced, earth-bound gods of bronze and stone Whose priests and kings and lust-begotten lords Watch the procession of their thundering hosts, Or guard relentless fanes with flickering […]...
4. An Image From A Past Life He. Never until this night have I been stirred. The elaborate starlight throws a reflection On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scream From terrified, invisible beast or bird: Image of poignant recollection. She. An image of my heart that is smitten through Out of all likelihood, or […]...
5. Sapphic Fragment “Thou shalt be Nothing.” Omar Khayyam. “Tombless, with no remembrance.” W. Shakespeare. Dead shalt thou lie; and nought Be told of thee or thought, For thou hast plucked not of the Muses’ tree: And even in Hades’ halls Amidst thy fellow-thralls No friendly shade thy shade shall company!...
6. If This Were Faith God, if this were enough, That I see things bare to the buff And up to the buttocks in mire; That I ask nor hope nor hire, Nut in the husk, Nor dawn beyond the dusk, Nor life beyond death: God, if this were faith! Having felt thy wind in my face Spit sorrow and […]...
7. What Is Life? Resembles Life what once was held of Light, Too ample in itself for human sight? An absolute Self an element ungrounded All, that we see, all colours of all shade [Image]By encroach of darkness made? Is very life by consciousness unbounded? And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath, A war-embrace of wrestling Life […]...
8. Janus IMAGE of beauty, when I gaze on thee, Trembling I waken to a mystery, How through one door we go to life or death By spirit kindled or the sensual breath. Image of beauty, when my way I go; No single joy or sorrow do I know: Elate for freedom leaps the starry power, The […]...
9. Zapolya Song (Act II, Scene I, lines 65-80) 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 trolled Within that shaft of sunny mist ; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, […]...
10. The Hour of the King WHO would think this quiet breather From the world had taken flight? Yet within the form we see there Wakes the Golden King to-night. Out upon the face of faces He looked forth before his sleep: Now he knows the starry races Haunters of the ancient deep. On the Bird of Diamond Glory Floats in […]...
11. I Wait For You I wait for you. The years in silence pass And as the image, one, I wait for you again. The distance is in flame and clear one as glass, I, silent, wait with sadness, love and pain. The distance is in flame, and you are coming fast, But I’m afraid that you will change your […]...
12. You Who Never Arrived You who never arrived In my arms, Beloved, who were lost From the start, I don’t even know what songs Would please you. I have given up trying To recognize you in the surging wave of the next Moment. All the immense Images in me the far-off, deeply-felt landscape, Cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected […]...
13. Of Death & Resurrection Like to the rowling of an eye, Or like a starre shott from the skye, Or like a hand upon a clock, Or like a wave upon a rock, Or like a winde, or like a flame, Or like false newes which people frame, Even such is man, of equall stay, Whose very growth leades […]...
14. The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top Blood blood and torn grass Had marked the rise of his agony This lone hunter. The grey-green woods impassive Had watched the threshing of his limbs. A canoe with flashing paddle, A girl with soft searching eyes, A call: “John!” . . . . . Come, arise, […]...
15. The Book of Urizen: Chapter III 1. The voice ended, they saw his pale visage Emerge from the darkness; his hand On the rock of eternity unclasping The Book of brass. Rage siez’d the strong 2. Rage, fury, intense indignation In cataracts of fire blood & gall In whirlwinds of sulphurous smoke: And enormous forms of energy; All the seven deadly […]...
16. In Broken Images He is quick, thinking in clear images; I am slow, thinking in broken images. He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images; I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images. Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance; Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance. Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact; Questioning their relevance, I question […]...
17. Death Come thou, thou last one, whom I recognize, Unbearable pain throughout this body’s fabric: As I in my spirit burned, see, I now burn in thee: The wood that long resisted the advancing flames Which thou kept flaring, I now am nourishinig And burn in thee. My gentle and mild being through thy ruthless fury […]...
18. The White Birds I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea! We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee; And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky, Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness […]...
19. The Spirit Medium Poetry, music, I have loved, and yet Because of those new dead That come into my soul and escape Confusion of the bed, Or those begotten or unbegotten Perning in a band, I bend my body to the spade Or grope with a dirty hand. Or those begotten or unbegotten, For I would not recall […]...
20. Her Vision In The Wood Dry timber under that rich foliage, At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood, Too old for a man’s love I stood in rage Imagining men. Imagining that I could A greater with a lesser pang assuage Or but to find if withered vein ran blood, I tore my body that its wine might cover Whatever […]...
21. Song The nymph in vain bestows her pains That seeks to thrive where Bacchus reigns; In vain are charms, or smiles, or frowns, All images his torrent drowns. Flames to the head he may impart, But makes an island of the heart, So inaccessible and cold, That to be his is to be old....
22. A Man Young And Old: II. Human Dignity Like the moon her kindness is, If kindness I may call What has no comprehension in’t, But is the same for all As though my sorrow were a scene Upon a painted wall. So like a bit of stone I lie Under a broken tree. I could recover if I shrieked My heart’s agony To […]...
23. Death is a Dialogue between Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death The Spirit “Sir I have another Trust” Death doubts it Argues from the Ground The Spirit turns away Just laying off for evidence An Overcoat of Clay....
24. The Gardener LIX: O Woman O woman, you are not merely the Handiwork of God, but also of men; These are ever endowing you with Beauty from their hearts. Poets are weaving for you a web With threads of golden imagery; Painters are giving your form ever New immortality. The sea gives its pearls, the mines Their gold, the summer […]...
25. Hymn 95 Regeneration. John 1:13; 3:3, etc. Not all the outward forms on earth, Nor rites that God has giv’n, Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth, Can raise a soul to heav’n. The sovereign will of God alone Creates us heirs of grace Born in the image of his Son, A new, peculiar race. The […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Silence of Love I COULD praise you once with beautiful words ere you came And entered my life with love in a wind of flame. I could lure with a song from afar my bird to its nest, But with pinions drooping together silence is best. In the land of beautiful silence the winds are laid, And life […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. True one of Lorca’s best lines Is, “agony, always Agony…” Think of this when you Kill a Cockroach or Pick up a razor to Shave Or awaken in the morning To Face the Sun....
30. The Heritage Cry out on Time that he may take away Your cold philosophies that give no hint Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall down and pray That Death come never with a face of flint: Death is our heritage; with Life we share The sunlight that must own his darkening hour: Within his very presence yet we dare […]...
31. Bring Wine Bring wine, for I am suffering crop sickness from the vintage; God has seized me, and I am thus held fast. By love’s soul, bring me a cup of wine that is the envy of the Sun, for I care aught but love. Bring that which if I were to call it “soul” would be […]...
32. The Chorus of Old Men in Aegus Ye gods that have a home beyond the world, Ye that have eyes for all man’s agony, Ye that have seen this woe that we have seen,- Look with a just regard, And with an even grace, Here on the shattered corpse of a shattered king, Here on a suffering world where men grow old […]...
33. Woman's Constancy Now thou hast loved me one whole day, Tomorrow when thou leav’st, what wilt thou say? Wilt thou then antedate some new made vow? Or say that now We are not just those persons, which we were? Or, that oaths made in reverential fear Of Love, and his wrath, any may forswear? Or, as true […]...
34. Sonnet: Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land! There, waiting patiently, One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing, See a slow light across the Stygian tide, And hear the Dead about me stir, […]...
35. Friends Departed They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit ling’ring here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest After the sun’s […]...
36. They are all Gone into the World of Light 1 They are all gone into the world of light! 2 And I alone sit ling’ring here; 3 Their very memory is fair and bright, 4 And my sad thoughts doth clear. 5 It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, 6 Like stars upon some gloomy grove, 7 Or those faint beams in which […]...
37. Old Tom Again Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear, Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose Building-yard and stormy shore, Winding-sheet and swaddling – clothes....
38. Wide Spaces When the man I was denounces all the things that I was not, When the true souls stand like granite, while the souls of liars not – When the quids I gave are counted, and the trays I cadged forgot; Shall my spirit see the country that it wrote for once again? Shall it see […]...
39. When on a Summer's Morn When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in […]...
40. A Woman's Voice HIS head within my bosom lay, But yet his spirit slipped not through: I only felt the burning clay That withered for the cooling dew. It was but pity when I spoke And called him to my heart for rest, And half a mother’s love that woke Feeling his head upon my breast: And half […]...