Hound Voice

Related poetry:

1. The Ballad Of The Foxhunter ‘Lay me in a cushioned chair; Carry me, ye four, With cushions here and cushions there, To see the world once more. ‘To stable and to kennel go; Bring what is there to bring; Lead my Lollard to and fro, Or gently in a ring. ‘Put the chair upon the grass: Bring Rody and his […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. On The Skeleton Of A Hound Nightfall, that saw the morning-glories float Tendril and string against the crumbling wall, Nurses him now, his skeleton for grief, His locks for comfort curled among the leaf. Shuttles of moonlight weave his shadow tall, Milkweed and dew flow upward to his throat. Now catbird feathers plume the apple mound, And starlings drowse to winter […]...
4. The Hound of Heaven I fled Him down the nights and down the days I fled Him down the arches of the years I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears I hid from him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated Adown titanic glooms […]...
5. The Voice Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as […]...
6. The Voice of Robert Desnos So like a flower and a current of air The flow of water fleeting shadows The smile glimpsed at midnight this excellent evening So like every joy and every sadness It is the midnight past lifting its naked body above belfries and poplars I call to me those lost in the fields Old skeletons young […]...
7. Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves Three Voices [together]. Hurry to bless the hands that play, The mouths that speak, the notes and strings, O masters of the glittering town! O! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that sway Over the ramparts and the towers, And with the waving of your wings. First Voice. Maybe they linger […]...
8. The People ‘What have I earned for all that work,’ I said, ‘For all that I have done at my own charge? The daily spite of this unmannerly town, Where who has served the most is most defaned, The reputation of his lifetime lost Between the night and morning. I might have lived, And you know well […]...
9. The Voice Where is the distant voice That speaks like my soul? Buried beneath daylight’s clamor Gold and the seasons Beneath groaning streets And the ferment of cities In my grave of care And blond laughter In what bare tomb must I lie To summon the voice That speaks like my soul?...
10. A Farewell I GO down from the hills half in gladness, and half with a pain I depart, Where the Mother with gentlest breathing made music on lip and in heart; For I know that my childhood is over: a call comes out of the vast, And the love that I had in the old time, like […]...
11. "Go tell it" What a Message “Go tell it” What a Message To whom is specified Not murmur not endearment But simply we obeyed Obeyed a Lure a Longing? Oh Nature none of this To Law said sweet Thermopylae I give my dying Kiss...
12. The Clock's Clear Voice Into The Clearer Air THE cock’s clear voice into the clearer air Where westward far I roam, Mounts with a thrill of hope, Falls with a sigh of home. A rural sentry, he from farm and field The coming morn descries, And, mankind’s bugler, wakes The camp of enterprise. He sings the morn upon the westward hills Strange and […]...
13. A Poet's Voice XV Part One The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry. My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty. Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it […]...
14. Byzantium The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor’s drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night walkers’ song After great cathedral gong; A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains All that man is, All mere complexities, The fury and the mire of human veins. Before me floats an image, man or shade, Shade more than […]...
15. Waiting WHEN the dawn comes forth I wonder Will our sad, sad hearts awaken, And the grief we laboured under From the new-in-joy be shaken? If the night be long in going, All our souls will fix in sadness; And the light of morning glowing Waken in our eyes no gladness. All unschooled in mirth we […]...
16. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines I walked among the seven woods of Coole: Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn; Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no, Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden hy green houghs Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee, Where hazel and ash and privet hlind […]...
17. The Municipal Gallery Revisited I Around me the images of thirty years: An ambush; pilgrims at the water-side; Casement upon trial, half hidden by the bars, Guarded; Griffith staring in hysterical pride; Kevin O’Higgins’ countenance that wears A gentle questioning look that cannot hide A soul incapable of remorse or rest; A revolutionary soldier kneeling to be blessed; II […]...
18. The Return See, they return; ah, see the tentative Movements, and the slow feet, The trouble in the pace and the uncertain Wavering! See, they return, one, and by one, With fear, as half-awakened; As if the snow should hesitate And murmur in the wind, and half turn back; These were the “Wing’d-with-Awe,” Inviolable. Gods of the […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. Hymn 44 Hell; or, The vengeance of God. With holy fear and humble song, The dreadful God our souls adore; Rev’rence and awe become the tongue That speaks the terrors of his power. Far in the deep where darkness dwells, The land of horror and despair, Justice has built a dismal hell, And laid her stores of […]...
21. HUGHES' VOICE IN MY HEAD As soon as we crossed into Yorkshire Hughes’ voice assailed me, unmistakable Gravel and honey, a raw celebration of rain Like a tattered lacework window; Black glisten on roof slates, Tarmac turned to shining ice, Blusters of naked wind whipping The wavelets of shifting water To imaginary floating islets On the turbulent river Glumly he […]...
22. Waking In March Last night, again, I dreamed My children were back at home, Small boys huddled in their separate beds, And I went from one to the other Listening to their breathing regular, Almost soundless until a white light Hardened against the bedroom wall, The light of Los Angeles burning south Of here, going at last as […]...
23. Hear the Voice HEAR the voice of the Bard, Who present, past, and future, sees; Whose ears have heard The Holy Word That walk’d among the ancient trees; Calling the lapsed soul, And weeping in the evening dew; That might control The starry pole, And fallen, fallen light renew! ‘O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the […]...
24. The Voice As the kindling glances, Queen-like and clear, Which the bright moon lances From her tranquil sphere At the sleepless waters Of a lonely mere, On the wild whirling waves, mournfully, mournfully, Shiver and die. As the tears of sorrow Mothers have shed- Prayers that tomorrow Shall in vain be sped When the flower they flow […]...
25. Hard Luck I left the course, and by my side There walked a ruined tout A hungry creature, evil-eyed, Who poured this story out. “You see,” he said, “there came a swell To Kensington today, And, if I picked the winners well, A crown at least he’s pay. “I picked three winners straight, I did; I filled […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. A Voice From The Dungeon I’m buried now; I’ve done with life; I’ve done with hate, revenge and strife; I’ve done with joy, and hope and love And all the bustling world above. Long have I dwelt forgotten here In pining woe and dull despair; This place of solitude and gloom Must be my dungeon and my tomb. No hope, […]...
28. Each small gleam was a voice Each small gleam was a voice, A lantern voice In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold. A chorus of colours came over the water; The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer wavered, No pines crooned on the hills, The blue night was elsewhere a silence, When the chorus of colours came over the water, Little songs […]...
29. At Half past Three, a single Bird At Half past Three, a single Bird Unto a silent Sky Propounded but a single term Of cautious melody. At Half past Four, Experiment Had subjugated test And lo, Her silver Principle Supplanted all the rest. At Half past Seven, Element Nor Implement, be seen And Place was where the Presence was Circumference between....
30. Lift Every Voice and Sing Lift ev’ry voice and sing, Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of Liberty; Let our rejoicing rise High as the list’ning skies, Let it resound loud as the rolling sea. Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us, Sing a song full of the hope that […]...
31. A Voice from the Town I thought, in the days of the droving, Of steps I might hope to retrace, To be done with the bush and the roving And settle once more in my place. With a heart that was well nigh to breaking, In the long, lonely rides on the plain, I thought of the pleasure of taking […]...
32. The Everlasting Voices O sweet everlasting Voices, be still; Go to the guards of the heavenly fold And bid them wander obeying your will, Flame under flame, till Time be no more; Have you not heard that our hearts are old, That you call in birds, in wind on the hill, In shaken boughs, in tide on the […]...
33. At the Top of My voice My most respected comrades of posterity! Rummaging among these days’ petrified crap, Exploring the twilight of our times, You, possibly, will inquire about me too. And, possibly, your scholars will declare, With their erudition overwhelming a swarm of problems; Once there lived a certain champion of boiled water, And inveterate enemy of raw water. Professor, […]...
34. Old Testament Gospel (Hebrews, iv.2) Israel in ancient days Not only had a view Of Sinai in a blaze, But learn’d the Gospel too; The types and figures were a glass, In which thy saw a Saviour’s face. The paschal sacrifice And blood-besprinkled door, Seen with enlighten’d eyes, And once applied with power, Would teach the need of […]...
35. The Voice of Toil I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying, All days shall be as all have been; To-day and to-morrow bring fear and sorrow, The never-ending toil between. When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger, In hope we strove, and our hands were strong; Then great men led us, with words they fed us, And […]...
36. The Tower I What shall I do with this absurdity – O heart, O troubled heart – this caricature, Decrepit age that has been tied to me As to a dog’s tail? Never had I more Excited, passionate, fantastical Imagination, nor an ear and eye That more expected the impossible – No, not in boyhood when with […]...
37. The Grey Rock Poets with whom I learned my trade. Companions of the Cheshire Cheese, Here’s an old story I’ve remade, Imagining ‘twould better please Your cars than stories now in fashion, Though you may think I waste my breath Pretending that there can be passion That has more life in it than death, And though at bottling […]...
38. Noises I woke up this morning With the city’s noises Fusing into my dream A pride of lions Roaring in anger The traffic, it must have been A hunter shouting something But I probably heard a street vendor For a moment, total silence Then a shot rings out in the wild Perhaps a car’s broken exhaust […]...
39. Dream Song 112: My framework is broken, I am coming to an end My framework is broken, I am coming to an end, God send it soon. When I had most to say My tongue clung to the roof I mean of my mouth. It is my Lady’s birthday Which must be honoured, and has been. God send It soon. I now must speak to my disciples, west […]...
40. Georgia Dusk The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue The setting sun, too indolent to hold A lengthened tournament for flashing gold, Passively darkens for night’s barbecue, A feast of moon and men and barking hounds, An orgy for some genius of the South With blood-hot eyes and cane-lipped scented mouth, Surprised in making folk-songs from soul sounds. […]...