Her Praise

Related poetry:

1. To A Poet, Who Would Have Me Praise Certain Bad Poets, Imitators Of His And Mine You say, as I have often given tongue In praise of what another’s said or sung, ‘Twere politic to do the like by these; But was there ever dog that praised his fleas?...
2. O Lord, I Will Praise Thee (Isaiah, xii.1) I will praise Thee every day Now Thine anger’s turn’d away; Comfortable thoughts arise From the bleeding sacrifice. Here, in the fair gospel-field, Wells of free salvation yield Stream of life, a plenteous store, And my soul shall thirst no more. Jesus is become at length My salvation and my strength; And His […]...
3. Against Unworthy Praise O heart, be at peace, because Nor knave nor dolt can break What’s not for their applause, Being for a woman’s sake. Enough if the work has seemed, So did she your strength renew, A dream that a lion had dreamed Till the wilderness cried aloud, A secret between you two, Between the proud and […]...
4. Praise Life This country least, but every inhabited country Is clotted with human anguish. Remember that at your feasts. And this is no new thing but from time out of mind, No transient thing, but exactly Conterminous with human life. Praise life, it deserves praise, but the praise of life That forgets the pain is a pebble […]...
5. Others may Praise what They Like OTHERS may praise what they like; But I, from the banks of the running Missouri, praise nothing, in art, or aught else, Till it has well inhaled the atmosphere of this river-also the western prairie-scent, And fully exudes it again....
6. Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise The Rain Beloved, let us once more praise the rain. Let us discover some new alphabet, For this, the often praised; and be ourselves, The rain, the chickweed, and the burdock leaf, The green-white privet flower, the spotted stone, And all that welcomes the rain; the sparrow too,- Who watches with a hard eye from seclusion, Beneath […]...
7. Praise In Summer Obscurely yet most surely called to praise, As sometimes summer calls us all, I said The hills are heavens full of branching ways Where star-nosed moles fly overhead the dead; I said the trees are mines in air, I said See how the sparrow burrows in the sky! And then I wondered why this mad […]...
8. Colonus' Praise (From Oedipus at Colonus) Chorus. Come praise Colonus’ horses, and come praise The wine-dark of the wood’s intricacies, The nightingale that deafens daylight there, If daylight ever visit where, Unvisited by tempest or by sun, Immortal ladies tread the ground Dizzy with harmonious sound, Semele’s lad a gay companion. And yonder in the gymnasts’ garden […]...
9. Praise for Faith Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows, Thou Giver of all good! Not heaven itself a richer knows Than my Redeemer’s blood. Faith too, the blood-receiving grace, From the same hand we gain; Else, sweetly as it suits our case, That gift had been in vain. Till Thou Thy teaching power apply, Our hearts refuse […]...
10. Lines in Praise of Professor Blackie Alas! the people’s hearts are now full of sorrow For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro’; Because he was a Christian man, affable and kind, And his equal in charitable actions would be hard to find ‘Twas in the year of 1895, March the 2nd, he died at 10 o’clock. Which to his dear wife, […]...
11. Praise it 'tis dead Praise it ’tis dead It cannot glow Warm this inclement Ear With the encomium it earned Since it was gathered here Invest this alabaster Zest In the Delights of Dust Remitted since it flitted it In recusance august....
12. Praise (I) To write a verse or two is all the praise That I can raise: Mend my estate in any ways, Thou shalt have more. I go to Church; help me to wings, and I Will thither fly; Or, if I mount unto the sky, I will do more. Man is all weakness; there is no […]...
13. Give Me Back My Rags #1 Give me back my rags My rags of pure dreaming Of silk smiling of striped foreboding Of my cloth of lace My rags of spotted hope Of burnished desire of chequered glances Of skin from my face Give me back my rags Give me when I ask you nicely...
14. Friends Now must I these three praise Three women that have wrought What joy is in my days: One because no thought, Nor those unpassing cares, No, not in these fifteen Many-times-troubled years, Could ever come between Mind and delighted mind; And one because her hand Had strength that could unbind What none can understand, What […]...
15. In Praise of Meter The earth is full of rhythms so precise The octave of the crystal can produce A trillion oscillations, yet not lose A second’s beat. The ear needs no device To hear the unsprung rhythms of the couch Drown out the mouth’s; the lips can be debauched By kisses, should the heart put back its watch […]...
16. The Pilgrim I fasted for some forty days on bread and buttermilk, For passing round the bottle with girls in rags or silk, In country shawl or Paris cloak, had put my wits astray, And what’s the good of women, for all that they can say Is fol de rol de rolly O. Round Lough Derg’s holy […]...
17. In Praise Of Writing Letters Blest be the Man! his Memory at least, Who found the Art, thus to unfold his Breast, And taught succeeding Times an easy way Their secret Thoughts by Letters to convey; To baffle Absence, and secure Delight, Which, till that Time, was limited to Sight. The parting Farewel spoke, the last Adieu, The less’ning Distance […]...
18. Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine To exalt, enthrone, establish and defend, To welcome home mankind’s mysterious friend Wine, true begetter of all arts that be; Wine, privilege of the completely free; Wine the recorder; wine the sagely strong; Wine, bright avenger of sly-dealing wrong, Awake, Ausonian Muse, and sing the vineyard song! Sing how the Charioteer from Asia came, And […]...
19. He Wonders Whether to Praise or Blame Her I have peace to weigh your worth, now all is over, But if to praise or blame you, cannot say. For, who decries the loved, decries the lover; Yet what man lauds the thing he’s thrown away? Be you, in truth, this dull, slight, cloudy naught, The more fool I, so great a fool to […]...
20. The Song Of Princess Zeb-Un-Nissa In Praise Of Her Own Beauty WHEN from my cheek I lift my veil, The roses turn with envy pale, And from their pierced hearts, rich with pain, Send forth their fragrance like a wail. Or if perchance one perfumed tress Be lowered to the wind’s caress, The honeyed hyacinths complain, And languish in a sweet distress. And, when I pause, […]...
21. Departure It was not like your great and gracious ways! Do you, that have naught other to lament, Never, my Love, repent Of how, that July afternoon, You went, With sudden, unintelligible phrase, And frighten’d eye, Upon your journey of so many days Without a single kiss, or a good-bye? I knew, indeed, that you were […]...
22. In Praise of Songs that Die AFTER HAVING READ A GREAT DEAL OF GOOD CURRENT POETRY IN THE MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPERS Ah, they are passing, passing by, Wonderful songs, but born to die! Cries from the infinite human seas, Waves thrice-winged with harmonies. Here I stand on a pier in the foam Seeing the songs to the beach go home, Dying […]...
23. A Drunken Man's Praise Of Sobriety Come swish around, my pretty punk, And keep me dancing still That I may stay a sober man Although I drink my fill. Sobriety is a jewel That I do much adore; And therefore keep me dancing Though drunkards lie and snore. O mind your feet, O mind your feet, Keep dancing like a wave, […]...
24. Under The Moon I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde, Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle, Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while; Nor Uladh, when Naoise had thrown a sail upon the wind; Nor lands that seem too dim to be burdens on the heart: Land-under-Wave, where out of the […]...
25. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 01: Clairvoyant ‘This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?- The soul flies far, and we can only call it By things like these. . . a photograph, a letter, Ribbon, or charm, or watch. . . ‘ . . . […]...
26. William Shakespeare Not if men’s tongues and angels’ all in one Spake, might the word be said that might speak thee. Streams, winds, woods, flowers, fields, mountains, yea, the sea, What power is in them all to praise the sun? His praise is this he can be praised of none. Man, woman, child, praise God for him; […]...
27. A Memory Of Youth The moments passed as at a play; I had the wisdom love brings forth; I had my share of mother-wit, And yet for all that I could say, And though I had her praise for it, A cloud blown from the cut-throat North Suddenly hid Love’s moon away. Believing every word I said, I praised […]...
28. Drumnotes DAYS of the dead men, Danny. Drum for the dead, drum on your remembering heart. Jaurès, a great love-heart of France, a slug of lead in the red valves. Kitchener of Khartoum, tall, cold, proud, a shark’s mouthful. Franz Josef, the old man of forty haunted kingdoms, in a tomb with the Hapsburg fathers, moths […]...
29. De M. Antonio NOW Antoninus, in a smiling age, Counts of his life the fifteenth finished stage. The rounded days and the safe years he sees, Nor fears death’s water mounting round his knees. To him remembering not one day is sad, Not one but that its memory makes him glad. So good men lengthen life; and to […]...
30. Three Songs To The One Burden I The Roaring Tinker if you like, But Mannion is my name, And I beat up the common sort And think it is no shame. The common breeds the common, A lout begets a lout, So when I take on half a score I knock their heads about. From mountain to mountain ride the fierce […]...
31. Honor Among Scamps We are the smirched. Queen Honor is the spotless. We slept thro’ wars where Honor could not sleep. We were faint-hearted. Honor was full-valiant. We kept a silence Honor could not keep. Yet this late day we make a song to praise her. We, codeless, will yet vindicate her code. She who was mighty, walks […]...
32. A Prayer For Old Age God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone; He that sings a lasting song Thinks in a marrow-bone; From all that makes a wise old man That can be praised of all; O what am I that I should not seem For the song’s sake a fool? I pray for word […]...
33. Old Times Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times; Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christmas chimes, And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my friend, And the winter now, means death. And summer blossoms speak all too plain Of the dear, dead forms beneath. But […]...
34. Rondeau Redoublé I know the rules and hear myself agree Not to invest beyond this one night stand. I know your patter: in, out, like the sea. The sharp north wind must blow away the sand. Soon my supply will meet your last demand And you will have no further use for me. I will not swim […]...
35. In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence O Lord, Thou hear’st my daily moan And see’st my dropping tears. My troubles all are Thee before, My longings and my fears. Thou hitherto hast been my God; Thy help my soul hath found. Though loss and sickness me assailed, Through Thee I’ve kept my ground. And Thy abode Thou’st made with me; With […]...
36. In Praise Of Henna A KOKILA called from a henna-spray: Lira! liree! Lira! liree! Hasten, maidens, hasten away To gather the leaves of the henna-tree. Send your pitchers afloat on the tide, Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old, Grind them in mortars of amber and gold, The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree. A kokila called from […]...
37. Praise for the Fountain Opened (Zecheriah, xiii.1) There is a fountain fill’d with blood, Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And there have I, as vile as he, Wash’d all my sins away. Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood Shall […]...
38. Garland for Queens, may be Garland for Queens, may be Laurels for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah but remembering me Ah but remembering thee Nature in chivalry Nature in charity Nature in equity This Rose ordained!...
39. I Will Praise the Lord at All Times Winter has a joy for me, While the Saviour’s charms I read, Lowly, meek, from blemish free, In the snowdrop’s pensive head. Spring returns, and brings along Life-invigorating suns: Hark! the turtle’s plaintive song Seems to speak His dying groans! Summer has a thousand charms, All expressive of His worth; ‘Tis His sun that lights […]...
40. Pearls And so I look back Still thinking of her With painful heart, This clench of inner flesh. -Kakinomoto Hitomaro from Manyoshu * Praise the irritant, that genesis, Implanted within the soft And malleable animal that bore you. * Your brethren strung around my neck, Dangling from my earlobes. The imperfections the jeweler slights, I praise. […]...