In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz

Related poetry:

1. Outside Fargo, North Dakota Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car, I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly. No wind. Beyond town, three heavy white horses Wade all the way to their shoulders In a silo shadow. Suddenly the freight car lurches. The door slams back, a man with a flashlight Calls me […]...
2. To The Memory Of Mr Oldham Farewell, too little and too lately known, Whom I began to think and call my own; For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Cast in the same poetic mould with mine. One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and fools we both abhorred alike. To the same goal did both […]...
3. Remorse is Memory awake Remorse is Memory awake Her Parties all astir A Presence of Departed Acts At window and at Door Its Past set down before the Soul And lighted with a Match Perusal to facilitate And help Belief to stretch Remorse is cureless the Disease Not even God can heal For ’tis His institution and The Adequate […]...
4. Identification In Belfast (I. R. A. Bombing) The British Army now carries two rifles, One with rubber rabbit-pellets for children, The other’s of course for the Provisionals…. ‘When they first showed me the boy, I thought oh good, It’s not him because he’s blonde- I imagine his hair was singed dark by the bomb. He had nothing on […]...
5. General William Booth Enters into Heaven [To be sung to the tune of The Blood of the Lamb with indicated instrument] I [Bass drum beaten loudly.] Booth led boldly with his big bass drum (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.” (Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?) […]...
6. Memory Of Sun Memory of sun seeps from the heart. Grass grows yellower. Faintly if at all the early snowflakes Hover, hover. Water becoming ice is slowing in The narrow channels. Nothing at all will happen here again, Will ever happen. Against the sky the willow spreads a fan The silk’s torn off. Maybe it’s better I did […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. The Beautiful Xi Shi Since beauty is honoured all over the Empire, How could Xi Shi remain humbly at home? Washing clothes at dawn by a southern lake And that evening a great lady in a palace of the north: Lowly one day, no different from the others, The next day exalted, everyone praising her. No more would her […]...
10. To the Memory of Henry Welles Livingston A gentle spirit now above Once animated what lies here Till heav’n announc’d in tenderest love “Ascend Immortal to yon sphere.” The lambkin at the great behest Gave up its life without one groan; When lo! In robes supernal drest He found the bright abodes his own! Most glorious and delightful scenes Rush’d full upon […]...
11. To The Memory Of My Beloved, The Author, Mr William Shakespeare, And What He Hath Left Us To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name Am I thus ample to thy book and fame; While I confess thy writings to be such As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. ‘Tis true, and all men’s suffrage. But these ways Were not the paths I meant unto thy praise; For silliest ignorance […]...
12. In memory of that excellent person Mrs. Mary Lloyd of Bodidrist in Denbigh-shire I CANNOT hold, for though to write were rude, Yet to be silent were Ingratitude, And Folly too; for if Posterity Should never hear of such a one as thee, And onely know this Age’s brutish fame, They would think Vertue nothing but a Name. And though far abler Pens must her define, Yet her […]...
13. In Memory Of Major Robert Gregory I Now that we’re almost settled in our house I’ll name the friends that cannot sup with us Beside a fire of turf in th’ ancient tower, And having talked to some late hour Climb up the narrow winding stair to bed: Discoverers of forgotten truth Or mere companions of my youth, All, all are […]...
14. A Memory (From a sonnet-sequence) Somewhile before the dawn I rose, and stept Softly along the dim way to your room, And found you sleeping in the quiet gloom, And holiness about you as you slept. I knelt there; till your waking fingers crept About my head, and held it. I had rest Unhoped this side of […]...
15. In Memory of F. P If I could ever write a lasting verse, It should be laid, deare Sainte, upon thy herse. But Sorrow is no muse, and doth confesse That it least can what most it would expresse. Yet, that I may some bounds to griefe allow, I’le try if I can weepe in numbers now. Ah beauteous blossom! […]...
16. Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq NEAR yon bleak mountain’s dizzy height, That hangs o’er AVON’s silent wave; By the pale Crescent’s glimm’ring light, I sought LORENZO’s lonely grave. O’er the long grass the silv’ry dew, Soft Twilight’s tears spontaneous shone; And the dank bough of baneful yew Supply’d the place of sculptured stone. Oft, as my trembling steps drew near, […]...
17. John Kinsella's Lament For Mrs. Mary Moore I A bloody and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man would keep, Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister, My cousins by the score, But nothing satisfied the fool But my dear Mary Moore, None other knows what pleasures man At table or in […]...
18. Petropolis From a fearful height, a wandering light, But does a star glitter like this, crying? Transparent star, wandering light Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. From a fearful height, earthly dreams are alight, And a green star is crying. Oh star, if you are the brother of water and light, Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. A […]...
19. White Ash THERE is a woman on Michigan Boulevard keeps a parrot and goldfish and two white mice. She used to keep a houseful of girls in kimonos and three pushbuttons on the front door. Now she is alone with a parrot and goldfish and two white mice… but these are some of her thoughts: The love […]...
20. A Game of Fives Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks. Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! Five winsome girls, […]...
21. A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton Shall the great soul of Newton quit this earth, To mingle with his stars; and every muse, Astonish’d into silence, shun the weight Of honours due to his illustrious name? But what can man? Even now the sons of light, In strains high-warbled to seraphic lyre, Hail his arrival on the coast of bliss. Yet […]...
22. In Memory Of Alfred Pollexfen Five-and-twenty years have gone Since old William pollexfen Laid his strong bones down in death By his wife Elizabeth In the grey stone tomb he made. And after twenty years they laid In that tomb by him and her His son George, the astrologer; And Masons drove from miles away To scatter the Acacia spray […]...
23. We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
24. In Memory I Serene and beautiful and very wise, Most erudite in curious Grecian lore, You lay and read your learned books, and bore A weight of unshed tears and silent sighs. The song within your heart could never rise Until love bade it spread its wings and soar. Nor could you look on Beauty’s face before […]...
25. Wild Oats About twenty years ago Two girls came in where I worked – A bosomy English rose And her friend in specs I could talk to. Faces in those days sparked The whole shooting-match off, and I doubt If ever one had like hers: But it was the friend I took out, And in seven years […]...
26. Memory Pictures I A wide-spring meadow in a rosy dawn Bedropt with virgin buds; an orient sky Fleeced with a dappled cloud but half withdrawn; A mad wind blowing by, O’er slopes of rippling grass and glens apart; A brackened path to a wild-woodland place A limpid pool with a fair, laughing face Mirrored within its heart. […]...
27. Ode to the Memory of Burns Soul of the Poet! wheresoe’er, Reclaimed from earth, thy genius plume Her wings of immortality ; Suspend thy harp in happier sphere, And with thine influence illume The gladness of our jubilee. And fly like fiends from secret spell, Discord and Strife, at Burn’s name, Exorcised by his memory ; For he was chief of […]...
28. Georgic on Memory Make your daily monument the Ego, Use a masochist’s epistemology Of shame and dog-eared certainty That others less exacting might forgo. If memory’s an elephant, then feed The animal. Resist revision: the stand Of feral raspberry, contraband Fruit the crows stole, ferrying seed For miles… No. It was a broken hedge, Not beautiful, sunlight tacking […]...
29. Private Eye To find clues where there are none, That’s my job now, I said to the Dictionary on my desk. The world beyond My window has grown illegible, And so has the clock on the wall. I may strike a match to orient myself In the meantime, there’s the heart Stopping hush as the building Empties, […]...
30. Father And Child She hears me strike the board and say That she is under ban Of all good men and women, Being mentioned with a man That has the worst of all bad names; And thereupon replies That his hair is beautiful, Cold as the March wind his eyes....
31. A Greeting Good morning, Life and all Things glad and beautiful. My pockets nothing hold, But he that owns the gold, The Sun, is my great friend His spending has no end. Hail to the morning sky, Which bright clouds measure high; Hail to you birds whose throats Would number leaves by notes; Hail to you shady […]...
32. Jangling Memory Heavens above! here’s an old tie of your Sea-green dragons stamped on a golden ground. Ha! Ha! Ha! What children we were in those days. Do you love me enough to wear it now? Have you the courage of your pristine glories? Ha! Ha! Ha! You laugh and shrug your shoulders. Those were the days […]...
33. In Memory of a Child I The angels guide him now, And watch his curly head, And lead him in their games, The little boy we led. II He cannot come to harm, He knows more than we know, His light is brighter far Than daytime here below. III His path leads on and on, Through pleasant lawns and flowers, […]...
34. Memory When I was young my heart and head were light, And I was gay and feckless as a colt Out in the fields, with morning in the may, Wind on the grass, wings in the orchard bloom. O thrilling sweet, my joy, when life was free And all the paths led on from hawthorn-time Across […]...
35. Memory One had a lovely face, And two or three had charm, But charm and face were in vain Because the mountain grass Cannot but keep the form Where the mountain hare has lain....
36. Old Memory O thought, fly to her when the end of day Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty and fierce and kind, It might call up a new age, calling to mind The queens that were imagined long ago, Is but half yours: he kneaded in the dough Through the long […]...
37. To the Memory of Sarah Livingston BEYOND where billows roll or tempests vex Is gone the gentlest of the gentle sex! – Her brittle bark on life’s wild ocean tost Unequal to the conflict soon was lost. Severe her sufferings! much, alas, she bore, Then sunk beneath the storm & rose no more. But when th’ Archangel’s awful trump shall sound […]...
38. Resolve Build on resolve, and not upon regret, The structure of thy future. Do not grope Among the shadows of old sins, but let Thine own soul’s light shine on the path of hope And dissipate the darkness. Waste no tears Upon the blotted record of lost years, But turn the leaf, and smile, oh! smile, […]...
39. Ave atque Vale (In memory of Charles Baudelaire) SHALL I strew on thee rose or rue or laurel, Brother, on this that was the veil of thee? Or quiet sea-flower moulded by the sea, Or simplest growth of meadow-sweet or sorrel, Such as the summer-sleepy Dryads weave, Waked up by snow-soft sudden rains at eve? Or wilt thou rather, as on earth before, […]...
40. The Moon Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light, Thou seemest most charming to my sight; As I gaze upon thee in the sky so high, A tear of joy does moisten mine eye. Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light, Thou cheerest the Esquimau in the night; For thou lettest him see to harpoon the fish, And with […]...