A Death Song

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1. Lady button-eyes When the busy day is done, And my weary little one Rocketh gently to and fro; When the night winds softly blow, And the crickets in the glen Chirp and chirp and chirp again; When upon the haunted green Fairies dance around their queen – Then from yonder misty skies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Through the […]...
2. Song IV: Draw Near and Behold Me Love is enough: draw near and behold me Ye who pass by the way to your rest and your laughter, And are full of the hope of the dawn coming after; For the strong of the world have bought me and sold me And my house is all wasted from threshold to rafter. Pass by […]...
3. A Faery Song Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania, In their bridal sleep under a Cromlech. We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of years, If all were told: Give to these children, new from the world, Silence and love; And the long dew-dropping hours of the […]...
4. To Death (From Lenau.) If within my heart there’s mould, If the flame of Poesy And the flame of Love grow cold, Slay my body utterly. Swiftly, pause not nor delay; Let not my life’s field be spread With the ash of feelings dead, Let thy singer soar away....
5. Easter Bring flowers to strew His way, Yea, sing, make holiday; Bid young lambs leap, And earth laugh after sleep. For now He cometh forth Winter flies to the north, Folds wings and cries Amid the bergs and ice. Yea, Death, great Death is dead, And Life reigns in his stead; Cometh the Athlete New from […]...
6. Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture? Whence cometh such tender rapture? Those curls they are not the first ones I’ve smoothened, and I’ve already Known lips that were darker than yours. The stars have risen and faded, Whence cometh such tender rapture? And eyes have risen and faded In face of these eyes of mine I’d never yet hearkened unto Such […]...
7. Some One Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Someone came knocking; I’m sure-sure-sure; I listened, I opened, I looked to left and right, But nought there was a stirring In the still dark night; Only the busy beetle Tap-tapping in the wall, Only from the forest The screech-owl’s call, Only the cricket whistling While […]...
8. 352. The Song of Death FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, Now gay with the broad setting sun; Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties, Our race of existence is run! Thou grim King of Terrors; thou Life’s gloomy foe! Go, frighten the coward and slave; Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know […]...
9. The Death Of A Fly There was once a man who disguised himself as a Housefly and went about the neighborhood depositing Flyspecks. Well, he has to do something hasn’t he? said someone to Someone else. Of course, said someone else back to someone. Then what’s all the fuss? said someone to someone else. Who’s fussing? I’m just saying that […]...
10. 235. Song-The Fall of the Leaf THE LAZY mist hangs from the brow of the hill, Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill; How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear! As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year. The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown, And all the gay foppery of summer is flown: Apart let me wander, apart […]...
11. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty […]...
12. Death and the Lady TURN in, my lord, she said ; As it were the Father of Sin I have hated the Father of the Dead, The slayer of my kin ; By the Father of the Living led, Turn in, my lord, turn in. We were foes of old ; thy touch was cold, But mine is warm […]...
13. Sheep Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep One by one going up the hill and over the fence one by One four-footed pattering up and over one by one wiggling Their stub tails as they take the short jump and go Over one by one silently unless for the multitudinous Drumming of their hoofs as they […]...
14. The Song of a Man Who has Come Through Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time. If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me! If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift! If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself […]...
15. Idylls Of The King: Song From The Marriage Of Geraint Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel, and lower the proud; Turn thy wild wheel thro’ sunshine, storm, and cloud; Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown; With that wild wheel we go not up or down; Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great. […]...
16. Song IX: Ho Ye Who Seek Saving Love is enough: ho ye who seek saving, Go no further; come hither; there have been who have found it, And these know the House of Fulfilment of Craving; These know the Cup with the roses around it; These know the World’s Wound and the balm that hath bound it: Cry out, the World heedeth […]...
17. The Death King I hired a carpenter To build my coffin And last night I lay in it, Braced by a pillow, Sniffing the wood, Letting the old king Breathe on me, Thinking of my poor murdered body, Murdered by time, Waiting to turn stiff as a field marshal, Letting the silence dishonor me, Remembering that I’ll never […]...
18. On the Death of Robert Browning He held no dream worth waking; so he said, He who stands now on death’s triumphal steep, Awakened out of life wherein we sleep And dream of what he knows and sees, being dead. But never death for him was dark or dread; “Look forth,” he bade the soul, and fear not. Weep, All ye […]...
19. Crimson Changes People DID I see a crucifix in your eyes And nails and Roman soldiers And a dusk Golgotha? Did I see Mary, the changed woman, Washing the feet of all men, Clean as new grass When the old grass burns? Did I see moths in your eyes, lost moths, With a flutter of wings that meant: […]...
20. Written On The Day That Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison What though, for showing truth to flattered state, Kind Hunt was shut in prison, yet has he, In his immortal spirit, been as free As the sky-searching lark, and as elate. Minion of grandeur! think you he did wait? Think you he nought but prison-walls did see, Till, so unwilling, thou unturnedst the key? Ah, […]...
21. The Night Cometh Cometh the night. The wind falls low, The trees swing slowly to and fro: Around the church the headstones grey Cluster, like children strayed away But found again, and folded so. No chiding look doth she bestow: If she is glad, they cannot know; If ill or well they spend their day, Cometh the night. […]...
22. Of Death I try to think like this Of Death I try to think like this The Well in which they lay us Is but the Likeness of the Brook That menaced not to slay us, But to invite by that Dismay Which is the Zest of sweetness To the same Flower Hesperian, Decoying but to greet us I do remember when a […]...
23. Death's Way Old Man Death’s a lousy heel who will not play the game: Let Graveyard yawn and doom down crash, he’ll sneer and turn away. But when the sky with rapture rings and joy is like a flame, Then Old Man Death grins evilly, and swings around to slay. Jack Duval was my chosen pal in […]...
24. Remorse For Any Death Free of memory and of hope, Limitless, abstract, almost future, The dead man is not a dead man: he is death. Like the God of the mystics, Of Whom anything that could be said must be denied, The dead one, alien everywhere, Is but the ruin and absence of the world. We rob him of […]...
25. The End Of The World Quite unexpectedly, as Vasserot The armless ambidextrian was lighting A match between his great and second toe, And Ralph the lion was engaged in biting The neck of Madame Sossman while the drum Pointed, and Teeny was about to cough In waltz-time swinging Jocko by the thumb – Quite unexpectedly the top blew off: And […]...
26. Death, To The Dead For Evermore DEATH, to the dead for evermore A King, a God, the last, the best of friends – Whene’er this mortal journey ends Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door; Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn Disturbs the eternal sleep, But in the stillness far […]...
27. 525. Song-Had I the wyte, she bade me HAD I the wyte, had I the wyte, Had I the wyte? she bade me; She watch’d me by the hie-gate side, And up the loan she shaw’d me. And when I wadna venture in, A coward loon she ca’d me: Had Kirk an’ State been in the gate, I’d lighted when she bade me. […]...
28. On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread, See Sewell number’d with the happy dead. Hail, holy man, arriv’d th’ immortal shore, Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more. Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes The saint ascending to his native skies; From hence the prophet wing’d his rapt’rous way To […]...
29. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 02: Death: And A Derisive Chorus The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling street. Her withered hand clings tightly to the railing. The long stairs rise and fall beneath her feet. Here in the brilliant sun we jostle, waiting To tear her secret out. . . We laugh, […]...
30. The Army of Death When you see millions of the mouthless dead Across your dreams in pale battalions go, Say not soft things as other men have said, That you’ll remember. For you need not so. Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know It is not curses heaped on each gashed head? Nor tears. Their blind […]...
31. To A Clergyman On The Death Of His Lady WHERE contemplation finds her sacred spring, Where heav’nly music makes the arches ring, Where virtue reigns unsully’d and divine, Where wisdom thron’d, and all the graces shine, There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng, While praise eternal warbles from her tongue; There choirs angelic shout her welcome round, With perfect bliss, and peerless glory […]...
32. The Death of Robin Hood “Give me my bow,” said Robin Hood, “An arrow give to me; And where ‘t is shot mark thou that spot, For there my grave shall be.” Then Little John did make no sign, And not a word he spake; But he smiled, altho’ with mickle woe His heart was like to break. He raised […]...
33. Sonnet: Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Oh! Death will find me, long before I tire Of watching you; and swing me suddenly Into the shade and loneliness and mire Of the last land! There, waiting patiently, One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing, See a slow light across the Stygian tide, And hear the Dead about me stir, […]...
34. Between the Dusk of a Summer Night Between the dusk of a summer night And the dawn of a summer day, We caught at a mood as it passed in flight, And we bade it stoop and stay. And what with the dawn of night began With the dusk of day was done; For that is the way of woman and man, […]...
35. Dream Song 21: Some good people, daring & subtle voices Some good people, daring & subtle voices And their tense faces, as I think of it I see sank underground. I see. My radar digs. I do not dig. Cool their flushing blood, them eyes is shut— Eyes? Appalled: by all the dead: Henry brooded. Without exception! All. ALL. The senior population waits. Come down! […]...
36. Dream Song 89: Op. posth. no. 12 In a blue series towards his sleepy eyes They slid like wonder, women tall & small, Of every shape & size, In many languages to lisp ‘We do’ To Henry almost waking. What is the night at all, His closed eyes beckon you. In the Marriage of the Dead, a new routine, He gasped his […]...
37. Mariana WITH BLACKEST moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look’d sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, “My life is dreary, […]...
38. Death Fugue Black milk of daybreak we drink it at sundown We drink it at noon in the morning we drink it at night We drink it and drink it We dig a grave in the breezes there one lies unconfined A man lives in the house he plays with the serpents he writes He writes when […]...
39. The Death of Fred Marsden, the American Playwright A pathetic tragedy I will relate, Concerning poor Fred. Marsden’s fate, Who suffocated himself by the fumes of gas, On the 18th of May, and in the year of 1888, alas! Fred. Marsden was a playwright, the theatrical world knows, And was highly esteemed by the people, and had very few foes; And in New […]...
40. A Song of Peach-Blossom River A fisherman is drifting, enjoying the spring mountains, And the peach-trees on both banks lead him to an ancient source. Watching the fresh-coloured trees, he never thinks of distance Till he comes to the end of the blue stream and suddenly – strange men! It’s a cave-with a mouth so narrow that he has to […]...