Laughing Rose

Related poetry:

1. Laughing Song When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy And the dimpling stream runs laughing by, When the air does laugh with our merry wit, And the green hill laughs with the noise of it. When the meadows laugh with lively green And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene. When Mary and Susan […]...
2. Laughing Blue Steel TWO fishes swimming in the sea, Two birds flying in the air, Two chisels on an anvil-maybe. Beaten, hammered, laughing blue steel to each other-maybe. Sure I would rather be a chisel with you than a fish. Sure I would rather be a chisel with you than a bird. Take these two chisel-pals, O God. […]...
3. Rose Leaves When they shall close my careless eyes And look their last upon my face, I fear that some will say: “her lies A man of deep disgrace; His thoughts were bare, his words were brittle, He dreamed so much, he did so little. When they shall seal y coffin lid And this worn mask I […]...
4. The Wedding of the Rose and the Lotos The wide Pacific waters And the Atlantic meet. With cries of joy they mingle, In tides of love they greet. Above the drowned ages A wind of wooing blows: – The red rose woos the lotos, The lotos woos the rose. . . The lotos conquered Egypt. The rose was loved in Rome. Great India […]...
5. The Rose of Midnight THE moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; Her pollen is the dew. Her pollen is the mist that swings Across her face of dreams: Her pollen is the April rain, Filling the April streams. Her pollen is eternal life, Endless ambrosial foam. […]...
6. A Story For Rose On The Midnight Flight To Boston Until tonight they were separate specialties, Different stories, the best of their own worst. Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy’s Laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first Story. Someday, I promised her, I’ll be someone Going somewhere and we plotted it in the humdrum School for proper girls. The next […]...
7. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
8. THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS First, April, she with mellow showers Opens the way for early flowers; Then after her comes smiling May, In a more rich and sweet array; Next enters June, and brings us more Gems than those two that went before; Then, lastly, July comes, and she More wealth brings in than all those three....
9. La Regina Avrillouse Lady of rich allure, Queen of the spring’s embrace, Your arms are long like boughs of ash, Mid laugh-broken streams, spirit of rain unsure, Breath of the poppy flower, All the wood thy bower And the hills thy dwelling-place. This will I no more dream; Warm is thy arm’s allure, Warm is the gust of […]...
10. If I could bribe them by a Rose If I could bribe them by a Rose I’d bring them every flower that grows From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or storm Or frost, or death, or anyone My business were so dear! If they would linger for a Bird My Tambourin were soonest heard Among the April Woods! Unwearied, […]...
11. To an Early Daffodil Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring! Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers! The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers, Till ripe and […]...
12. The Rose Family The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple’s a rose, And the pear is, and so’s The plum, I suppose. The dear only know What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose But were always a rose....
13. Winter: My Secret I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: Perhaps some day, who knows? But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows, And you’re too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well: Only, my secret’s mine, and I won’t tell. Or, after all, perhaps there’s none: Suppose there is no secret after all, But […]...
14. The Rose Tree ‘O words are lightly spoken,’ Said Pearse to Connolly, ‘Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows Across the bitter sea.’ ‘It needs to be but watered,’ James Connolly replied, ‘To make the green come out again And spread on every side, And shake the […]...
15. The Tree of Laughing Bells [A Poem for Aviators] How the Wings Were Made From many morning-glories That in an hour will fade, From many pansy buds Gathered in the shade, From lily of the valley And dandelion buds, From fiery poppy-buds Are the Wings of the Morning made. The Indian Girl Who Made Them These, the Wings of the […]...
16. A Song: When June is Past, the Fading Rose Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty’s orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither doth stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me […]...
17. MY PERFECT ROSE At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet; Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’. […]...
18. Gray Eyes It was April when you came The first time to me, And my first look in your eyes Was like my first look at the sea. We have been together Four Aprils now Watching for the green On the swaying willow bough; Yet whenever I turn To your gray eyes over me, It is as […]...
19. Blue Squills How many million Aprils came Before I ever knew How white a cherry bough could be, A bed of squills, how blue! And many a dancing April When life is done with me, Will lift the blue flame of the flower And the white flame of the tree. Oh burn me with your beauty, then, […]...
20. The Last Rose ‘O WHICH is the last rose?’ A blossom of no name. At midnight the snow came; At daybreak a vast rose, In darkness unfurl’d, O’er-petall’d the world. Its odourless pallor Blossom’d forlorn, Till radiant valour Establish’d the morn Till the night Was undone In her fight With the sun. The brave orb in state rose, […]...
21. Rose-Morals I. Red. Would that my songs might be What roses make by day and night Distillments of my clod of misery Into delight. Soul, could’st thou bare thy breast As yon red rose, and dare the day, All clean, and large, and calm with velvet rest? Say yea say yea! Ah, dear my Rose, good-bye; […]...
22. Sea Rose Rose, harsh rose, Marred and with stint of petals, Meagre flower, thin, Sparse of leaf, More precious Than a wet rose Single on a stem You are caught in the drift. Stunted, with small leaf, You are flung on the sand, You are lifted In the crisp sand That drives in the wind. Can the […]...
23. The Grave and The Rose The Grave said to the Rose, “What of the dews of dawn, Love’s flower, what end is theirs?” “And what of spirits flown, The souls whereon doth close The tomb’s mouth unawares?” The Rose said to the Grave. The Rose said, “In the shade From the dawn’s tears is made A perfume faint and strange, […]...
24. St. Valentine's Day The South is a dream of flowers With a jewel for sky and sea, Rose-crowns for the dancing hours, Gold fruits upon every tree; But cold from the North The wind blows forth That blows my love to me. The stars in the South are gold Like lamps between sky and sea; The flowers that […]...
25. The Last Hero The wind blew out from Bergen, from the dawning to the day There was a wreck of trees, a fall of towers, a score of miles away And drifted like a livid leaf I go before the tide Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride The heavens are bowed about my […]...
26. O Gather Me the Rose O gather me the rose, the rose, While yet in flower we find it, For summer smiles, but summer goes, And winter waits behind it. For with the dream foregone, foregone, The deed foreborn forever, The worm Regret will canker on, And time will turn him never. So were it well to love, my love, […]...
27. Come With Me, I Said, And No One Knew (VII) Come with me, I said, and no one knew Where, or how my pain throbbed, No carnations or barcaroles for me, Only a wound that love had opened. I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying, And no one saw the moon that bled in my mouth Or the blood that […]...
28. One Perfect Rose A single flow’r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet – One perfect rose. I knew the language of the floweret; ‘My fragile leaves,’ it said, ‘his heart enclose.’ Love long has taken for his amulet One perfect rose. Why is it no […]...
29. TO THE ROSE: SONG Go, happy Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter’d me. Say, if she’s fretful, I have bands Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands; Tell her, if she struggle still, I have myrtle rods at will, […]...
30. 195. Song-A Rose-bud by my Early Walk A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet […]...
31. 488. Song-The Winter of Life BUT lately seen in gladsome green, The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing flowers In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled On winter blasts awa; Yet maiden May, in rich array, Again shall bring them a’. But my white pow, nae kindly thowe Shall melt the snaws of […]...
32. My Pretty Rose Tree A flower was offered to me; Such a flower as May never bore. But I said I’ve a Pretty Rose-tree. And I passed the sweet flower o’er. Then I went to my Pretty Rose-tree: To tend her by day and by night. But my Rose turnd away with jealousy: And her thorns were my only […]...
33. Between the Showers Between the showers I went my way, The glistening street was bright with flowers; It seemed that March had turned to May Between the showers. Above the shining roofs and towers The blue broke forth athwart the grey; Birds carolled in their leafless bowers. Hither and tither, swift and gay, The people chased the changeful […]...
34. Lodged The rain to the wind said, ‘You push and I’ll pelt.’ They so smote the garden bed That the flowers actually knelt, And lay lodged though not dead. I know how the flowers felt....
35. Sonnets 06: No Rose That In A Garden Ever Grew No rose that in a garden ever grew, In Homer’s or in Omar’s or in mine, Though buried under centuries of fine Dead dust of roses, shut from sun and dew Forever, and forever lost from view, But must again in fragrance rich as wine The grey aisles of the air incarnadine When the old […]...
36. Spring in New Hampshire Too green the springing April grass, Too blue the silver-speckled sky, For me to linger here, alas, While happy winds go laughing by, Wasting the golden hours indoors, Washing windows and scrubbing floors. Too wonderful the April night, Too faintly sweet the first May flowers, The stars too gloriously bright, For me to spend the […]...
37. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days! Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways: Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide; The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed, Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold; And thine own sadness, where of stars, grown old In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea, Sing in […]...
38. The Fourth EPIGRAM. (On GALLA) NOw liquid Streams by the fierce Gold do grow As solid as the Rocks from whence they flow; Now Tibers Banks with Ice united meet, And it’s firm Stream may well be term’d its Street; Now Vot’ries ‘fore the Shrines like Statues show, And scarce the Men from Images we know; Now Winters Palsey seizes […]...
39. Nobody knows this little Rose Nobody knows this little Rose It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee. Only a Bee will miss it Only a Butterfly, Hastening from far journey On its breast to lie Only a Bird will wonder Only a Breeze will sigh Ah Little Rose […]...
40. The Rose did caper on her cheek The Rose did caper on her cheek Her Bodice rose and fell Her pretty speech like drunken men Did stagger pitiful Her fingers fumbled at her work Her needle would not go What ailed so smart a little Maid It puzzled me to know Till opposite I spied a cheek That bore another Rose Just […]...