A New Year's Gift

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet LX THey that in course of heauenly spheares are skild, To euery planet point his sundry yeare: In which her circles voyage is fulfild, As Mars in three score yeares doth run his spheare So since the winged God his planet cleare, Began in me to moue, one yeare is spent: The which doth longer vnto […]...
2. Sonnet LXII THe weary yeare his race now hauing run, The new begins his compast course anew: With shew of morning mylde he hath begun, Betokening peace and plenty to ensew, So let vs, which this chaunge of weather vew, Chaunge eeke our mynds and former liues amend The old yeares sinnes forepast let vs eschew, And […]...
3. Mothers Are a Special Gift Mothers are a special gift sent From God above, They bless us with their nurturing, And fill us with their love. They pick us up when we are down, And when we’re sad they know, They’re always there to lend a hand, And guide us as we go. And mothers are like special jewels That […]...
4. To His Sister Loving Sister: every line Of your last letter was so fine With the best mettle, that the grayne Of Scrivener’s pindust were but vayne: The touch of Gold did sure instill Some vertue more than did the Quill. And since you write noe cleanly hand Your token bids mee understand Mine eyes have here a […]...
5. Before This Little Gift Was Come BEFORE this little gift was come The little owner had made haste for home; And from the door of where the eternal dwell, Looked back on human things and smiled farewell. O may this grief remain the only one! O may our house be still a garrison Of smiling children, and for evermore The tune […]...
6. THE GIFT We were three weeks Into term, Sheila, When you came Through the classroom door; Forty-four children Bent over books, Copying Roethke’s ‘The Lost Son’. You wrote your First poem on the ‘Moses’ Of Michelangelo. Words cut like stone. I taught you Greek But your painting of ‘The Essence of the Rose’ Was pure Platonic form. […]...
7. The Gift I THOUGHT, beloved, to have brought to you A gift of quietness and ease and peace, Cooling your brow as with the mystic dew Dropping from twilight trees. Homeward I go not yet; the darkness grows; Not mine the voice to still with peace divine: From the first fount the stream of quiet flows Through […]...
8. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD No news of navies burnt at seas; No noise of late spawn’d tittyries; No closet plot or open vent, That frights men with a Parliament: No new device or late-found trick, To read by th’ stars the kingdom’s sick; No gin to catch the State, or wring The free-born nostril of the King, We send […]...
9. Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain Full charactered with lasting memory, Which shall above that idle rank remain Beyond all date even to eternity- Or at the least, so long as brain and heart Have faculty by nature to subsist; Till each to razed oblivion yield his part Of thee, thy record never […]...
10. The Years To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive, shy years, As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears. The years went by and never knew That each one brought me nearer […]...
11. The Gift of God Blessed with a joy that only she Of all alive shall ever know, She wears a proud humility For what it was that willed it so – That her degree should be so great Among the favoured of the Lord That she may scarcely bear the weight Of her bewildering reward. As one apart, immune, […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. The Widower For a season there must be pain For a little, little space I shall lose the sight of her face, Take back the old life again While She is at rest in her place. For a season this pain must endure, For a little, little while I shall sigh more often than smile Till time […]...
14. To My Own Minature Picture Taken At Two Years Of Age And I was once like this! that glowing cheek Was mine, those pleasure-sparkling eyes, that brow Smooth as the level lake, when not a breeze Dies o’er the sleeping surface! twenty years Have wrought strange alteration! Of the friends Who once so dearly prized this miniature, And loved it for its likeness, some are gone […]...
15. My Boy Jack 1914-18 Have you news of my boy Jack?” Not this tide. “When d’you think that he’ll come back?” Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Has any one else had word of him?: “ Not this tide. For what is sunk will hardly swim, Not with this wind blowing, and this tide. “Oh, dear, […]...
16. A Gift See! I give myself to you, Beloved! My words are little jars For you to take and put upon a shelf. Their shapes are quaint and beautiful, And they have many pleasant colours and lustres To recommend them. Also the scent from them fills the room With sweetness of flowers and crushed grasses. When I […]...
17. The Gift I want to give you something, my child, for we are drifting in the Stream of the world. Our lives will be carried apart, and our love forgotten. But I am not so foolish as to hope that I could buy your heart With my gifts. Young is your life, your path long, and you […]...
18. The Gift “He gave her class. She gave him sex.” Katharine Hepburn on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers He gave her money. She gave him head. He gave her tips on “aggressive growth” mutual funds. She gave him a red rose and a little statue of eros. He gave her Genesis 2 (21-23). She gave him Genesis […]...
19. The Ungrateful Garden Midas watched the golden crust That formed over his steaming sores, Hugged his agues, loved his lust, But damned to hell the out-of-doors Where blazing motes of sun impaled The serrid roses, metal-bright. “Those famous flowers,” Midas wailed, “Have scorched my retina with light.” This gift, he’d thought, would gild his joys, Silt up the […]...
20. The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers are swinging, Look overhead! Censers are swinging, Heaven comes down. City, dead city, Awake from the dead! Censers, tremendous, Gleam overhead. Wind-harps are ringing, Wind-harps unseen- Calling and calling:- “Wake from the dead. Rise, little city, Shine like a queen.” Soldiers of […]...
21. Maude Clare Out of the church she followed them With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother said, With smiles, almost with tears: “May Nell and you but live as true As we have done for years; “Your father thirty […]...
22. After Years Today, from a distance, I saw you Walking away, and without a sound The glittering face of a glacier Slid into the sea. An ancient oak Fell in the Cumberlands, holding only A handful of leaves, and an old woman Scattering corn to her chickens looked up For an instant. At the other side Of […]...
23. On The Death Of The Right Honourable The Lord Viscount Bayning Though after Death, Thanks lessen into Praise, And Worthies be not crown’d with gold, but bayes; Shall we not thank? To praise Thee all agree; We Debtors must out doe it, heartily. Deserved Nobility of True Descent, Though not so old in Thee grew Ancient: We number not the Tree of Branched Birth, But genealogie […]...
24. Two Years Later Has no one said those daring Kind eyes should be more learn’d? Or warned you how despairing The moths are when they are burned? I could have warned you; but you are young, So we speak a different tongue. O you will take whatever’s offered And dream that all the world’s a friend, Suffer as […]...
25. From My Last Years FROM my last years, last thoughts I here bequeath, Scatter’d and dropt, in seeds, and wafted to the West, Through moisture of Ohio, prairie soil of Illinois-through Colorado, California air, For Time to germinate fully....
26. Years Years, many parti-colour’d years, Some have crept on, and some have flown Since first before me fell those tears I never could see fall alone. Years, not so many, are to come, Years not so varied, when from you One more will fall: when, carried home, I see it not, nor hear Adieu....
27. The harm of Years is on him The harm of Years is on him The infamy of Time Depose him like a Fashion And give Dominion room. Forget his Morning Forces The Glory of Decay Is a minuter Pageant Than least Vitality....
28. The Pile of Years is not so high The Pile of Years is not so high As when you came before But it is rising every Day From recollection’s Floor And while by standing on my Heart I still can reach the top Efface the mountain with your face And catch me ere I drop...
29. I Years had been from Home I Years had been from Home And now before the Door I dared not enter, lest a Face I never saw before Stare solid into mine And ask my Business there “My Business but a Life I left Was such remaining there?” I leaned upon the Awe I lingered with Before The Second like an […]...
30. Twenty-Four Years Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes. (Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.) In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor Sewing a shroud for a journey By the light of the meat-eating sun. Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun, With my […]...
31. I could not prove the Years had feet I could not prove the Years had feet Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done I find my feet have further Goals I smile upon the Aims That felt so ample Yesterday Today’s have vaster claims I do not doubt the self I was Was competent […]...
32. The Sunset Years of Samuel Shy Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too late. Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know, Where were these kisses three decades ago? Girls there were plenty, Mint julep girls, beer girls, Gay younger married and headstrong career girls, The girls of my friends And […]...
33. There is a Zone whose even Years There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease And Consciousness is Noon....
34. Twenty Years Hence Twenty years hence my eyes may grow If not quite dim, yet rather so, Still yours from others they shall know Twenty years hence. Twenty years hence though it may hap That I be called to take a nap In a cool cell where thunderclap Was never heard, There breathe but o’er my arch of […]...
35. At Eighty Years As nothingness draws near How I can see Inexorably clear My vanity. My sum of worthiness Always so small, Dwindles from less to less To none at all. As grisly destiny Claims me at last, How grievous seem to me Sins of my past! How keen a conscience edge Can come to be! How pitiless […]...
36. Since Years Ago For Evermore SINCE years ago for evermore My cedar ship I drew to shore; And to the road and riverbed And the green, nodding reeds, I said Mine ignorant and last farewell: Now with content at home I dwell, And now divide my sluggish life Betwixt my verses and my wife: In vain; for when the lamp […]...
37. Now When The Number Of My Years NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie Under the wide and starry sky. Joying to live, I joyed to die, Bury me low and let me lie. Clear was my soul, my deeds were […]...
38. Two Hundred Years After Trudging by Corbie Ridge one winter’s night, (Unless old hearsay memories tricked his sight) Along the pallid edge of the quiet sky He watched a nosing lorry grinding on, And straggling files of men; when these were gone, A double limber and six mules went by, Hauling the rations up through ruts and mud To […]...
39. Years of the Modern YEARS of the modern! years of the unperform’d! Your horizon rises-I see it parting away for more august dramas; I see not America only-I see not only Liberty’s nation, but other nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exits-I see new combinations-I see the solidarity of races; I see that force advancing with irresistible power […]...
40. Quicksand Years QUICKSAND years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail-lines give way-substances mock and elude me; Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess’d Soul, eludes not; One’s-self must never give way-that is the final substance-that out of all is sure; Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life-what at last finally remains? […]...