Light Hearted Author

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1. Light Hearted William Light hearted William twirled His November moustaches And, half dressed, looked From the bedroom window Upon the spring weather. Heigh-ya! sighed he gaily Leaning out to see Up and down the street Where a heavy sunlight Lay beyond some blue shadows. Into the room he drew His head again and laughed To himself quietly Twirling […]...
2. Solidarity Song Peoples of the world, together Join to serve the common cause! So it feeds us all for ever See to it that it’s now yours. Forward, without forgetting Where our strength can be seen now to be! When starving or when eating Forward, not forgetting Our solidarity! Black or white or brown or yellow Leave […]...
3. 395. Sonnet on the Author's Birthday SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, ‘mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow. So in lone Poverty’s dominion drear, Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart; Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part, Nor asks if […]...
4. Our Blessings Sitting to-day in the sunshine, That touched me with fingers of love, I thought of the manifold blessings God scatters on earth, from above; And they seemed, as I numbered them over, Far more than we merit, or need, And all that we lack is the angels To make earth a heaven indeed. The winter […]...
5. Vintage I will mix me a drink of stars, Large stars with polychrome needles, Small stars jetting maroon and crimson, Cool, quiet, green stars. I will tear them out of the sky, And squeeze them over an old silver cup, And I will pour the cold scorn of my Beloved into it, So that my drink […]...
6. Author's Prologue This day winding down now At God speeded summer’s end In the torrent salmon sun, In my seashaken house On a breakneck of rocks Tangled with chirrup and fruit, Froth, flute, fin, and quill At a wood’s dancing hoof, By scummed, starfish sands With their fishwife cross Gulls, pipers, cockles, and snails, Out there, crow […]...
7. I Sit and Think I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen, Of meadow-flowers and butterflies In summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer In autumns that there were, With morning mist and silver sun And wind upon my hair. I sit beside the fire and think Of how the world will […]...
8. Drinking Alone I take my wine jug out among the flowers To drink alone, without friends. I raise my cup to entice the moon. That, and my shadow, makes us three. But the moon doesn’t drink, And my shadow silently follows. I will travel with moon and shadow, Happy to the end of spring. When I sing, […]...
9. The Late Singer Here it is spring again And I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on his breast Has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past: What is it that is dragging at my heart? The grass by the back door Is stiff with sap. The […]...
10. The Widow's Lament In Springtime Sorrow is my own yard Where the new grass Flames as it has flamed Often before but not With the cold fire That closes round me this year. Thirtyfive years I lived with my husband. The plumtree is white today With masses of flowers. Masses of flowers Load the cherry branches And color some bushes […]...
11. The Light of Stars The night is come, but not too soon; And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heaven But the cold light of stars; And the first watch of night is given To the red planet Mars. Is it the tender star of love? […]...
12. Alone And Drinking Under The Moon Amongst the flowers I Am alone with my pot of wine Drinking by myself; then lifting My cup I asked the moon To drink with me, its reflection And mine in the wine cup, just The three of us; then I sigh For the moon cannot drink, And my shadow goes emptily along With me […]...
13. The Rain Was Ending, And Light The rain was ending, and light Lifting the leaden skies. It shone upon ceiling and floor And dazzled a child’s eyes. Pale after fever, a captive Apart from his schoolfellows, He stood at the high room’s window With face to the pane pressed close, And beheld an immense glory Flooding with fire the drops Spilled […]...
14. Improvisations: Light And Snow I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she knows. How inadequate they are to tell how her heart feels! When she has finished them several times She thrums the strings aimlessly with her finger-nails And smiles, and thinks happily of many things. II […]...
15. Long Point Light Long Pont’s apparitional This warm spring morning, The strand a blur of sandy light, And the square white Of the lighthouse-separated from us By the bay’s ultramarine As if it were nowhere We could ever go-gleams Like a tower’s ghost, hazing Into the rinsed blue of March, Our last outpost in the huge Indetermination of […]...
16. Drinking With Someone In The Mountains As the two of us drink Together, while mountain Flowers blossom beside, we Down one cup after the other Until I am drunk and sleepy So that you better go! Tomorrow if you feel like it Do come and bring your lute Along with you!...
17. VERSES Occasioned by a Young Lady’s asking the Author, What was a Cure for Love? From me, my Dear, O seek not to receive What e’en deep-read Experience cannot give. We may, indeed, from the Physician’s skill Some Med’cine find to cure the body’s ill. But who e’er found the physic for the soul, Or made th’ affections bend to his controul? When thro’ the blaze of passion objects show […]...
18. The Light Wraps You The light wraps you in its mortal flame. Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way Against the old propellers of the twighlight That revolves around you. Speechless, my friend, Alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead And filled with the lives of fire, Pure heir of the ruined day. A bough of fruit […]...
19. The Maple Tree The Maple with its tassell flowers of green That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green. Bark ribb’d like corderoy in seamy screed That farther up the stem is smoother seen, Where the white hemlock with white umbel flowers Up […]...
20. The Green Bowl This little bowl is like a mossy pool In a Spring wood, where dogtooth violets grow Nodding in chequered sunshine of the trees; A quiet place, still, with the sound of birds, Where, though unseen, is heard the endless song And murmur of the never resting sea. ‘T was winter, Roger, when you made this […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Graves I dreamed one man stood against a thousand, One man damned as a wrongheaded fool. One year and another he walked the streets, And a thousand shrugs and hoots Met him in the shoulders and mouths he passed. He died alone. And only the undertaker came to his funeral. Flowers grow over his grave anod […]...
23. 88. The Author's Earnest Cry and Prayer YE Irish lords, ye knights an’ squires, Wha represent our brughs an’ shires, An’ doucely manage our affairs In parliament, To you a simple poet’s pray’rs Are humbly sent. Alas! my roupit Muse is hearse! Your Honours’ hearts wi’ grief ‘twad pierce, To see her sittin on her arse Low i’ the dust, And scriechinh […]...
24. Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine Amidst the flowers a jug of wine, I pour alone lacking companionship. So raising the cup I invite the Moon, Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us. Because the Moon does not know how to drink, My shadow merely follows the movement of my body. The moon has brought the shadow to […]...
25. The Light o' the Moon [How different people and different animals look upon the moon: showing that each creature finds in it his own mood and disposition] The Old Horse in the City The moon’s a peck of corn. It lies Heaped up for me to eat. I wish that I might climb the path And taste that supper sweet. […]...
26. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
27. The Author to her Book Thou ill-form’d offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did’st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad expos’d to public view, Made thee in rags, halting to th’ press to trudge, Where errors were not lessened (all may judge). At thy return my blushing […]...
28. The Little Vagabond Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold, But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm: Besides I can tell where I am use’d well, Such usage in heaven will never do well. But if at the Church they would give us some Ale. And a pleasant fire, our souls to regale: We’d sing […]...
29. Light Breaks Where No Sun Shines Light breaks where no sun shines; Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart Push in their tides; And, broken ghosts with glowworms in their heads, The things of light File through the flesh where no flesh decks the bones. A candle in the thighs Warms youth and seed and burns the seeds of […]...
30. While Gazing on the Moon's Light While gazing on the moon’s light, A moment from her smile I turn’d, To look at orbs that, more bright, In lone and distant glory burn’d. But too far Each proud star, For me to feel its warming flame; Much more dear That mild sphere, Which near our planet smiling came; Thus, Mary, be but […]...
31. A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany In what torn ship soever I embark, That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark; What sea soever swallow me, that flood Shall be to me an emblem of thy blood; Though thou with clouds of anger do disguise Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes, Which, though they turn away […]...
32. But Men Loved Darkness rather than Light The world’s light shines, shine as it will, The world will love its darkness still. I doubt though when the world’s in hell, It will not love its darkness half so well....
33. The Speed Of Light So gradual in those summers was the going of the age it seemed that the long days setting out When the stars faded over the mountains were not leaving us even as the birds woke in full song and the dew Glittered in the webs it appeared then that the clear morning opening into the […]...
34. Moccasin Flowers All my life, So far, I have loved More than one thing, Including the mossy hooves Of dreams, including’ The spongy litter Under the tall trees. In spring The moccasin flowers Reach for the crackling Lick of the sun And burn down. Sometimes, In the shadows, I see the hazy eyes, The lamb-lips Of oblivion, […]...
35. To Jośe Marίa Palacio Palacio, good friend, Is spring there Showing itself on branches of black poplars By the roads and river? On the steeps Of the high Duero, spring is late, But so soft and lovely when it comes! Are there a few new leaves On the old elms? The acacias must still be bare, And the mountain […]...
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. The Inauguration of the Hill o' Balgay Beautiful Hill o’ Balgay, With your green frees and flowers fair, ‘Tis health for the old and young For to be walking there, To breathe the fragrant air Emanating from the green bushes And beautiful flowers there, Then they can through the burying-ground roam, And read the epitaphs on the tombstones Before they go home. […]...
38. Hymn To Life The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can’t see, the moon must be rising. It hasn’t reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know […]...
39. The Tide of Sorrow ON the twilight-burnished hills I lie and long and gaze Where below the grey-lipped sands drink in the flowing tides, Drink, and fade and disappear: interpreting their ways A seer in my heart abides. Once the diamond dancing day-waves laved thy thirsty lips: Now they drink the dusky night-tide running cold and fleet, Drink, and […]...
40. Autumn: A Dirge The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. Come, Months, come away, From November to May, In your saddest array; Follow the bier Of the dead […]...