Three Things

Related poetry:

1. A Sea-Shore Grave. To M. J. L By Sidney and Clifford Lanier. O wish that’s vainer than the plash Of these wave-whimsies on the shore: “Give us a pearl to fill the gash God, let our dead friend live once more!” O wish that’s stronger than the stroke Of yelling wave and snapping levin; “God, lift us o’er the Last Day’s smoke, […]...
2. The Demon In Me The demon in me’s not dead, He’s living, and well. In the body as in a hold, In the self as in a cell. The world is but walls. The exit’s the axe. (“All the world’s a stage,” The actor prates.) And that hobbling buffoon Is no joker; In the body as in glory, In […]...
3. The Storm I Ran to the forest for shelter, Breathless, half sobbing; I put my arms round a tree, Pillowed my head against the rough bark. “Protect me,” I said. “I am a lost child.” But the tree showered silver drops on my face and hair. A wind sprang up from the ends of the earth; It […]...
4. You Ask Why Sometimes I Say Stop You ask why sometimes I say stop Why sometimes I cry no While I shake with pleasure. What do I fear, you ask, Why don’t I always want to come And come again to that molten Deep sea center where the nerves Fuse open and the brain And body shine with a black wordless light […]...
5. The Earth-Child in the Grass In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my […]...
6. A Man Young And Old: III. The Mermaid A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown....
7. In The Foam Life swelleth in a whitening wave, And dasheth thee and me apart. I sweep out seaward: be thou brave. And reach the shore, Sweetheart. Beat back the backward-thrusting sea. Thy weak white arm his blows may thwart, Christ buffet the wild surge for thee Till thou’rt ashore, Sweetheart. Ah, now thy face grows dim apace, […]...
8. The Gift of the Sea The dead child lay in the shroud, And the widow watched beside; And her mother slept, and the Channel swept The gale in the teeth of the tide. But the mother laughed at all. “I have lost my man in the sea, And the child is dead. Be still,” she said, “What more can ye […]...
9. The Lady's Second Song What sort of man is coming To lie between your feet? What matter, we are but women. Wash; make your body sweet; I have cupboards of dried fragrance. I can strew the sheet. The Lord have mercy upon us. He shall love my soul as though Body were not at all, He shall love your […]...
10. Sekhmet, the Lion-headed Goddess of War He was the sort of man Who wouldn’t hurt a fly. Many flies are now alive While he is not. He was not my patron. He preferred full granaries, I battle. My roar meant slaughter. Yet here we are together In the same museum. That’s not what I see, though, the fitful Crowds of staring […]...
11. The Child-Angel They clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end To their wrangling. Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my Child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence. They are cruel in their greed and their envy, their words are like Hidden knives thirsting for blood. Go […]...
12. The New Ezekiel What, can these dead bones live, whose sap is dried By twenty scorching centuries of wrong? Is this the House of Israel, whose pride Is as a tale that’s told, an ancient song? Are these ignoble relics all that live Of psalmist, priest, and prophet? Can the breath Of very heaven bid these bones revive, […]...
13. To Sylvia “O love, lean thou thy cheek to mine, And let the tears together flow” Such was the song you sang to me Once, long ago. Such was the song you sang; and yet (O be not wroth!) I scarcely knew What sounds flow’d forth; I only felt That you were you. I scarcely knew your […]...
14. I have fallen into unconsciousness I have got out of my own control, I have fallen into unconsciousness; in my utter unconsciousness how joyful I am with myself! The darling sewed up my eyes so that I might not see other than him, so that suddenly I opened my eyes on his face. My soul fought with me saying, “Do […]...
15. The Old Prison The rows of cells are unroofed, A flute for the wind’s mouth, Who comes with a breath of ice From the blue caves of the south. O dark and fierce day: The wind like an angry bee Hunts for the black honey In the pits of the hollow sea. Waves of shadow wash The empty […]...
16. A Day in Bed I wish I had not got a cold, The wind is big and wild, I wish that I was very old, Not just a little child. Somehow the day is very long Just keeping here, alone; I do not like the big wind’s song, He’s growling for a bone He’s like an awful dog we […]...
17. The Song of Finis At the edge of All the Ages A Knight sate on his steed, His armor red and thin with rust His soul from sorrow freed; And he lifted up his visor From a face of skin and bone, And his horse turned head and whinnied As the twain stood there alone. No bird above that […]...
18. When We Were Here Together when we were here together in a place we did not know, nor one Another. A bit of grass held between the teeth for a moment, bright hair on the Wind. What we were we did not know, nor even the grass or the flame of Hair turning to ash on the wind. But they […]...
19. When the merry pranksters paint on years, On the dance of whispers. Where have we gone When the merry pranksters Painted the soul Of a child to woman born Where dares she grow From woodstock She chanced to dream But what did those Years, mean. She thought they Would stay… forever. But a child to woman grows It’s all a […]...
20. To a Stranger PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, […]...
21. The Derelict And reports the derelict Mary Pollock still at sea. SHIPPING NEWS. I was the staunchest of our fleet Till the sea rose beneath our feet Unheralded, in hatred past all measure. Into his pits he stamped my crew, Buffeted, blinded, bound and threw, Bidding me eyeless wait upon his pleasure. Man made me, and my […]...
22. Parting How I have felt that thing that’s called ‘to part’, And feel it still: a dark, invincible, Cruel something by which what was joined so well Is once more shown, held out, and torn apart. In what defenceless gaze at that I’ve stood, Which, as it, calling to me, let me go, Stayed there, as […]...
23. Krinken Krinken was a little child, It was summer when he smiled. Oft the hoary sea and grim Stretched its white arms out to him, Calling, “Sun-child, come to me; Let me warm my heart with thee!” But the child heard not the sea, Calling, yearning evermore For the summer on the shore. Krinken on the […]...
24. I've none to tell me to but Thee I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie It just held Two, nor those it held Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled Beyond my Boundary If things were opposite and Me And Me it were that ebbed from Thee On some unanswering Shore Would’st […]...
25. The wind drew off The wind drew off Like hungry dogs Defeated of a bone Through fissures in Volcanic cloud The yellow lightning shone The trees held up Their mangled limbs Like animals in pain When Nature falls upon herself Beware an Austrian....
26. Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; Lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong At my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed With love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded Down […]...
27. The Man Who Dreamed Of Faeryland He stood among a crowd at Dromahair; His heart hung all upon a silken dress, And he had known at last some tenderness, Before earth took him to her stony care; But when a man poured fish into a pile, It Seemed they raised their little silver heads, And sang what gold morning or evening […]...
28. I met a seer I met a seer. He held in his hands The book of wisdom. “Sir,” I addressed him, “Let me read.” “Child ” he began. “Sir,” I said, “Think not that I am a child, For already I know much Of that which you hold. Aye, much.” He smiled. Then he opened the book And held […]...
29. The Idea Of Order At Key West She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. […]...
30. The Last Chantey “And there was no more sea.” Thus said The Lord in the Vault above the Cherubim Calling to the Angels and the Souls in their degree: “Lo! Earth has passed away On the smoke of Judgment Day. That Our word may be established shall We gather up the sea?” Loud sang the souls of the […]...
31. I Have Dreamed of You so Much I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make Your dear voice come alive again? I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my Chest as […]...
32. Genesis I was but a half-grown boy, You were a girl-child slight. Ah, how weary you were! You had led in the bullock-fight… We slew the bullock at length With knives and maces of stone. And so your feet were torn, Your lean arms bruised to the bone. Perhaps ’twas the slain beast’s blood We drank, […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. Pleasure XXIV Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, “Speak to us of Pleasure.” And he answered, saying: Pleasure is a freedom song, But it is not freedom. It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But […]...
35. The Sea-Child Into the world you sent her, mother, Fashioned her body of coral and foam, Combed a wave in her hair’s warm smother, And drove her away from home In the dark of the night she crept to the town And under a doorway she laid her down, The little blue child in the foam-fringed gown. […]...
36. The Cap And Bells The jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window-sill. It rose in a straight blue garment, When owls began to call: It had grown wise-tongued by thinking Of a quiet and light footfall; But the young queen would not listen; She rose […]...
37. Felo de Se With Apologies to Mr. Swinburne. For repose I have sighed and have struggled ; have sigh’d and have struggled in vain; I am held in the Circle of Being and caught in the Circle of Pain. I was wan and weary with life ; my sick soul yearned for death; I was weary of women […]...
38. Not A Child ‘Not a child: I call myself a boy,’ Says my king, with accent stern yet mild, Now nine years have brought him change of joy; ‘Not a child.’ How could reason be so far beguiled, Err so far from sense’s safe employ, Stray so wide of truth, or run so wild? Seeing his face bent […]...
39. Among School Children I I walk through the long schoolroom questioning; A kind old nun in a white hood replies; The children learn to cipher and to sing, To study reading-books and histories, To cut and sew, be neat in everything In the best modern way – the children’s eyes In momentary wonder stare upon A sixty-year-old smiling […]...
40. Virgin Youth Now and again All my body springs alive, And the life that is polarised in my eyes, That quivers between my eyes and mouth, Flies like a wild thing across my body, Leaving my eyes half-empty, and clamorous, Filling my still breasts with a flush and a flame, Gathering the soft ripples below my breast […]...