Home ⇒ 📌William Stafford ⇒ For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid
For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid
There is a country to cross you will
Find in the corner of your eye, in
The quick slip of your foot air far
Down, a snap that might have caught.
And maybe for you, for me, a high, passing
Voice that finds its way by being
Afraid. That country is there, for us,
Carried as it is crossed. What you fear
Will not go away: it will take you into
Yourself and bless you and keep you.
That’s the world, and we all live there.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- A Man Young And Old: VII. The Friends Of His Youth Laughter not time destroyed my voice And put that crack in it, And when the moon’s pot-bellied I get a laughing fit, For that old Madge comes down the lane, A stone upon her breast, And a cloak wrapped about the stone, And she can get no rest With singing hush and hush-a-bye; She that […]...
- Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences As Deity decree Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? […]...
- To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear From my glad bosom,-now from gloominess I mount for ever-not an atom less Than the proud laurel shall content my bier. No! by the eternal stars! or why sit here In the Sun’s eye, and ‘gainst my temples press Apollo’s very leaves, woven to bless By thy […]...
- Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
- On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, and […]...
- To My Friends Yes, my friends! that happier times have been Than the present, none can contravene; That a race once lived of nobler worth; And if ancient chronicles were dumb, Countless stones in witness forth would come From the deepest entrails of the earth. But this highly-favored race has gone, Gone forever to the realms of night. […]...
- The Bee is not afraid of me The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially The Brooks laugh louder when I come The Breezes madder play; Wherefore mine eye thy silver mists, Wherefore, Oh Summer’s Day?...
- I am afraid to own a Body I am afraid to own a Body I am afraid to own a Soul Profound precarious Property Possession, not optional Double Estate entailed at pleasure Upon an unsuspecting Heir Duke in a moment of Deathlessness And God, for a Frontier....
- Dying! To be afraid of thee Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend Than thine old Arrow is a Shot Delivered straighter to the Heart The leaving Love behind. Not for itself, the Dust is shy, But, enemy, Beloved be Thy Batteries divorce. Fight sternly in a Dying eye Two Armies, Love […]...
- Friends Now must I these three praise Three women that have wrought What joy is in my days: One because no thought, Nor those unpassing cares, No, not in these fifteen Many-times-troubled years, Could ever come between Mind and delighted mind; And one because her hand Had strength that could unbind What none can understand, What […]...
- On A Friends Absence Come, come, I faint: thy heavy stay Doubles each houre of the day: The winged hast of nimble love Makes aged Time not seeme to move: Did not the light, And then the night Instruct my sight I should believe the Sunne forgot his flight. Show not the drooping marygold Whose leaves like grieving amber […]...
- Ballad of Dead Friends As we the withered ferns By the roadway lying, Time, the jester, spurns All our prayers and prying All our tears and sighing, Sorrow, change, and woe All our where-and-whying For friends that come and go. Life awakes and burns, Age and death defying, Till at last it learns All but Love is dying; Love’s […]...
- Young and Old 1 When all the world is young, lad, 2 And all the trees are green; 3 And every goose a swan, lad, 4 And every lass a queen; 5 Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 6 And round the world away! 7 Young blood must have its course, lad, 8 And every dog his […]...
- Friends Departed They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit ling’ring here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest After the sun’s […]...
- To S. M., A Young African Painter, On Seeing His Works O show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent, And thought in living characters to paint, When first thy pencil did those beauties give, And breathing figures learnt from thee to live, How did those prospects give my soul delight, A new creation rushing on my sight? Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue, On deathless glories […]...
- Having each of you as friends For more than 40 years we’ve been good friends, Since 1963 in fact, from college where we met (and managed there to build a strong quartet Of campus friendship which kept those years intact, Still yet as clear as yesterday). The musketeers were we, Four sons of Nereid, or perhaps Persephone, As different each from […]...
- May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
- To A Young Artist It is good for strength not to be merciful To its own weakness, good for the deep urn to run over, good to explore The peaks and the deeps, who can endure it, Good to be hurt, who can be healed afterward: but you that have whetted consciousness Too bitter an edge, too keenly daring, […]...
- Friends Beyond WILLIAM Dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert’s kin, and John’s, and Ned’s, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now! “Gone,” I call them, gone for good, that group of local hearts and Heads; Yet at mothy curfew-tide, And at midnight when the noon-heat breathes it back from walls […]...
- Why the Young Men Are So Ugly They have little tractors in their blood And all day the tractors climb up and down Inside their arms and legs, their Collarbones and heads. That is why they yell and scream and slam the barbells Down into their clanking slots, Making the metal ring like sledgehammers on iron, Like dungeon prisoners rattling their chains. […]...
- Extemporary Counsel given to a Young Gallant in a Frolick AS you are Young, if you’l be also Wise, Danger with Honour court, Quarrels despise; Believe you then are truly Brave and Bold, To Beauty when no Slave, and less to Gold; When Vertue you dare own, not think it odd, Or ungenteel to say, I fear a God....
- On a young Lady Whose LORD was Travelling NO sooner I pronounced Celindas name, But Troops of wing’d Pow’rs did chant the fame: Not those the Poets Bows and Arrows lend, But such as on the Altar do attend. Celinda nam’d, Flow’rs spring up from the Ground, Excited meerly with the Charming Sound. Celinda, the Courts Glory, and its fear, The gaz’d at […]...
- 72. Song-Young Peggy Blooms YOUNG Peggy blooms our boniest lass, Her blush is like the morning, The rosy dawn, the springing grass, With early gems adorning. Her eyes outshine the radiant beams That gild the passing shower, And glitter o’er the crystal streams, And cheer each fresh’ning flower. Her lips, more than the cherries bright, A richer dye has […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- Young Mother Her baby was so full of glee, And through the day It laughed and babbled on her knee In happy play. It pulled her hair all out of curl With noisy joy; So peppy she was glad her girl Was not a boy. Then as she longed for it to sleep, To her surprise It […]...
- The Young May Moon The young May moon is beaming, love. The glow-worm’s lamp is gleaming, love. How sweet to rove, Through Morna’s grove, When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! Then awake! the heavens look bright, my dear, ‘Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to […]...
- Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Live fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my […]...
- Elegy On The Death Of A Young Man Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, Echo from the dreary house of woe; Death-notes rise from yonder minster’s towers! Bearing out a youth, they slowly go; Yes! a youth unripe yet for the bier, Gathered in the spring-time of his days, Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, With the flame that in his […]...
- My Friends My friends without shields walk on the target It is late the windows are breaking My friends without shoes leave What they love Grief moves among them as a fire among Its bells My friends without clocks turn On the dial they turn They part My friends with names like gloves set out Bare handed […]...
- Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves Three Voices [together]. Hurry to bless the hands that play, The mouths that speak, the notes and strings, O masters of the glittering town! O! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that sway Over the ramparts and the towers, And with the waving of your wings. First Voice. Maybe they linger […]...
- Being Young And Green Being Young and Green, I said in love’s despite: Never in the world will I to living wight Give over, air my mind To anyone, Hang out its ancient secrets in the strong wind To be shredded and faded- Oh, me, invaded And sacked by the wind and the sun!...
- The Two Friends AXIOCHUS, a handsome youth of old, And Alcibiades, (both gay and bold,) So well agreed, they kept a beauteous belle, With whom by turns they equally would dwell. IT happened, one of them so nicely played, The fav’rite lass produced a little maid, Which both extolled, and each his own believed, Though doubtless one or […]...
- A Young Child And His Pregnant Mother At four years Nature is mountainous, Mysterious, and submarine. Even A city child knows this, hearing the subway’s Rumor underground. Between the grate, Dropping his penny, he learned out all loss, The irretrievable cent of fate, And now this newest of the mysteries, Confronts his honest and his studious eyes His mother much too fat […]...
- My Friends The man above was a murderer, the man below was a thief; And I lay there in the bunk between, ailing beyond belief; A weary armful of skin and bone, wasted with pain and grief. My feet were froze, and the lifeless toes were purple and green and gray; The little flesh that clung to […]...
- I Have Some Friends I have some friends, some worthy friends, And worthy friends are rare: These carpet slippers on my feet, That padded leather chair; This old and shabby dressing-gown, So well the worse of wear. I have some friends, some honest friends, And honest friends are few; My pipe of briar, my open fire, A book that’s […]...
- LETTERS TO FRIENDS I Eddie Linden Dear Eddie we’ve not met Except upon the written page And at your age the wonder Is that you write at all When so many have gone under Or been split asunder by narcissistic humours Blunder following blunder Barker and Graham, godfathering my verse Bearing me cloud-handed to Haworth moor From my […]...
- Hiawatha's Friends Two good friends had Hiawatha, Singled out from all the others, Bound to him in closest union, And to whom he gave the right hand Of his heart, in joy and sorrow; Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it; Singing birds, […]...
- Dear Friends Dear Friends, reproach me not for what I do, Nor counsel me, nor pity me; nor say That I am wearing half my life away For bubble-work that only fools pursue. And if my bubbles be too small for you, Blow bigger then your own: the games we play To fill the frittered minutes of […]...
- 110. Epistle to a Young Friend May-, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu’ friend, A something to have sent you, Tho’ it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind memento: But how the subject-theme may gang, Let time and chance determine; Perhaps it may turn out a sang: Perhaps turn out a sermon. Ye’ll try the world soon, my […]...
- The False Friends They laid their hands upon my head, They stroked my cheek and brow; And time could heal a hurt, they said, And time could dim a vow. And they were pitiful and mild Who whispered to me then, “The heart that breaks in April, child, Will mend in May again.” Oh, many a mended heart […]...