On A Watch Made By A Blacksmith

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1. THE WATCH Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never Wound up again; Once down, he’s down for ever. The watch once down, all motions then do cease; The man’s pulse stopt, all passions sleep in peace....
2. On A Gentlewoman's Watch That Wanted A Key Thou pretty heav’n whose great and lesser spheares With constant wheelings measure hours and yeares Soe faithfully that thou couldst solve the doubt Of erring Time if Nature should be out, Where’s thy intelligence? thy Soule? the Key That gives thee Life and Motion? must thou stay Thus cramp’d with rusty Sloth? and shall each […]...
3. 248. Pegasus at Wanlockhead WITH Pegasus upon a day, Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey lay, On foot the way was plying. Poor slipshod giddy Pegasus Was but a sorry walker; To Vulcan then Apollo goes, To get a frosty caulker. Obliging Vulcan fell to work, Threw by his coat and bonnet, And did Sol’s business in […]...
4. The Fitzroy Blacksmith Under the spreading deficit, The Fitzroy Smithy stands; The smith, a spendthrift man is he, With too much on his hands; But the muscles of his brawny jaw Are strong as iron bands. Pay out, pay put, from morn till night, You can hear the sovereigns go; Or you’ll hear him singing “Old Folks at […]...
5. The North Star Whispers to the Blacksmith's Son THE North Star whispers: “You are one Of those whose course no chance can change. You blunder, but are not undone, Your spirit-task is fixed and strange. “When here you walk, a bloodless shade, A singer all men else forget. Your chants of hammer, forge and spade Will move the prarie-village yet. “That young, stiff-necked, […]...
6. The Watch Moonlight spills down vacant sills, Illuminates an empty bed. Dreams lie in crates. One hand creates Wan silver circles, left unread By its companion unmoved now By anything that lies ahead. I watch the minutes test the limits Of ornamental movement here, Where once another hand would hover. Each circuit incomplete. So dear, So precious, […]...
7. As I Watch'd the Ploughman Ploughing AS I watch’d the ploughman ploughing, Or the sower sowing in the fields-or the harvester harvesting, I saw there too, O life and death, your analogies: (Life, life is the tillage, and Death is the harvest according.)...
8. When I Watch the Living Meet When I watch the living meet And the moving pageant file Warm and breathing through the street Where I lodge a little while, If the heats of hate and lust In the house of flesh are strong, Let me mind the house of dust Where my sojourn shall be long. In the nation that is […]...
9. The Evening-Watch: A Dialogue BODY 1 Farewell! I go to sleep; but when 2 The day-star springs, I’ll wake again. SOUL 3 Go, sleep in peace; and when thou liest 4 Unnumber’d in thy dust, when all this frame 5 Is but one dram, and what thou now descriest 6 In sev’ral parts shall want a name, 7 Then […]...
10. Poem 95 VNto his mother straight he weeping came, And of his griefe complayned: Who could not chose but laugh at his fond game, Though sad to see him pained. Think now (quod she) my sonne how great the smart Of those whom thou dost wound: Full many thou hast pricked to the hart, That pitty neuer […]...
11. The Village Blacksmith Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns […]...
12. The Black Watch Memorial Ye Sons of Mars, it gives me great content To think there has been erected a handsome monument In memory of the Black Watch, which is magnificent to see, Where they first were embodied at Aberfeldy. And as a Highland regiment they are worthy of what has been done for them, Because a more courageous […]...
13. A Watch-String Tyme’s picture here invites your eyes, See with how running wheeles it flyes! These strings can do what no man could The tyme they fast in prison hold....
14. A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, Sent For A Token Whatever in Philoclea the fair Or the discreet Pamela figur’d are, Change but the name the virtues are your owne, And for a fiction there a truth is knowne: If any service here perform’d you see, If duty and affection paynted bee Within these leaves: may you be pleas’d to know They only shadow what […]...
15. A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses Goe and count her better houres; They more happie are than ours. The day that gives her any blisse Make it as long againe as tis: The houre shee smiles in lett it bee By thy art increas’d to three: But if shee frowne on thee or mee Know night is made by her not […]...
16. THE GOBLET ONCE I held a well-carved brimming goblet, In my two hands tightly clasp’d I held it, Eagerly the sweet wine sipp’d I from it, Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow. Amor enter’d in, and found me sitting, And he gently smiled in modest fashion, Smiled as though the foolish one he pitied. “Friend, […]...
17. Echo Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose wakening should have […]...
18. To His Watch Mortal my mate, bearing my rock-a-heart Warm beat with cold beat company, shall I Earlier or you fail at our force, and lie The ruins of, rifled, once a world of art? The telling time our task is; time’s some part, Not all, but we were framed to fail and die – One spell and […]...
19. The Morning-Watch 1 O joys! infinite sweetness! with what flow’rs 2 And shoots of glory my soul breaks and buds! 3 All the long hours 4 Of night, and rest, 5 Through the still shrouds 6 Of sleep, and clouds, 7 This dew fell on my breast; 8 Oh, how it bloods 9 And spirits all my […]...
20. A Watch In The Night Watchman, what of the night? – Storm and thunder and rain, Lights that waver and wane, Leaving the watchfires unlit. Only the balefires are bright, And the flash of the lamps now and then From a palace where spoilers sit, Trampling the children of men. Prophet, what of the night? – I stand by the […]...
21. Andy the Night-Watch In my Spanish cloak, And old slouch hat, And overshoes of felt, And Tyke, my faithful dog, And my knotted hickory cane, I slipped about with a bull’s-eye lantern From door to door on the square, As the midnight stars wheeled round, And the bell in the steeple murmured From the blowing of the wind; […]...
22. Sonnet XXXIV: Venus! To Thee Venus! to thee, the Lesbian Muse shall sing, The song, which Myttellenian youths admir’d, When Echo, am’rous of the strain inspir’d, Bade the wild rocks with madd’ning plaudits ring! Attend my pray’r! O! Queen of rapture! bring To these fond arms, he, whom my soul has fir’d; From these fond arms remov’d; yet, still desir’d, […]...
23. Butterfly Laughter In the middle of our porridge plates There was a blue butterfly painted And each morning we tried who should reach the Butterfly first. Then the Grandmother said: “Do not eat the poor Butterfly.” That made us laugh. Always she said it and always it started us laughing. It seemed such a sweet little joke. […]...
24. The Chimney-Sweeper's Song Hath Christmas furr’d your Chimneys, Or have the maides neglected, Doe Fire-balls droppe from your Chimney’s toppe, The Pidgin is respected, Looke up with feare and horror, O how my mistresse wonders! The streete doth crie, the newes doth flie, The boyes they thinke it thunders. Then up I rush with my pole and brush, […]...
25. Venus' Runaway Beauties, have ye seen this toy, Called Love, a little boy, Almost naked, wanton, blind; Cruel now, and then as kind? If he be amongst ye, say? He is Venus’ runaway. She that will but now discover Where the winged wag doth hover, Shall to-night receive a kiss, How or where herself would wish: But […]...
26. Three Wives Said Jones: “I’m glad my wife’s not clever; Her intellect is second-rate. If she was witty she would never Give me a chance to scintillate; But cap my humorous endeavour And make me seem as addle-pate.” Said Smith: “I’m glad my wife’s no beauty, For if a siren’s charm she had, And stinted her domestic […]...
27. On The Death Of Ladie Caesar Though Death to good men be the greatest boone, I dare not think this Lady dyde so soone. She should have livde for others: Poor mens want Should make her stande, though she herselfe should faynt. What though her vertuous deeds did make her seeme Of equall age with old Methusalem? Shee should have livde […]...
28. The Metamorphosed Gypsies (excerpt) The fairy beam upon you, The stars to glister on you; A moon of light In the noon of night, Till the fire-drake hath o’ergone you. The wheel of fortune guide you The boy with the bow beside you; Run aye in the way Till the bird of day, And the luckier lot betide you. […]...
29. The Chatterbox From morning till night it was Lucy’s delight To chatter and talk without stopping: There was not a day but she rattled away, Like water for ever a-dropping. No matter at all if the subjects were small, Or not worth the trouble of saying, ‘Twas equal to her, she would talking prefer To working, or […]...
30. Astrophel And Stella-First Song Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast o’ercharged to music lendeth? To you, to you, all song of praise is due; Only in you my song begins and endeth. Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure? Who keeps the key of Nature’s chiefest treasure? To you, to […]...
31. Sir Richard's Song (A. D. 1066) I followed my Duke ere I was a lover, To take from England fief and fee; But now this game is the other way over But now England hath taken me! I had my horse, my shield and banner, And a boy’s heart, so whole and free; But now I sing in […]...
32. Sonnet 12 – Indeed this very love which is my boast Indeed this very love which is my boast, And which, when rising up from breast to brow, Doth crown me with a ruby large enow To draw men’s eyes and prove the inner cost,- This love even, all my worth, to the uttermost, I should not love withal, unless that thou Hadst set me an […]...
33. In Memory of F. P If I could ever write a lasting verse, It should be laid, deare Sainte, upon thy herse. But Sorrow is no muse, and doth confesse That it least can what most it would expresse. Yet, that I may some bounds to griefe allow, I’le try if I can weepe in numbers now. Ah beauteous blossom! […]...
34. Long Plighted Is it worth while, dear, now, To call for bells, and sally forth arrayed For marriage-rites discussed, decried, delayed So many years? Is it worth while, dear, now, To stir desire for old fond purposings, By feints that Time still serves for dallyings, Though quittance nears? Is it worth while, dear, when The day being […]...
35. Self-Love He that cannot choose but love, And strives against it still, Never shall my fancy move, For he loves ‘gainst his will; Nor he which is all his own, And can at pleasure choose, When I am caught he can be gone, And when he list refuse. Nor he that loves none but fair, For […]...
36. Rosemary Beauty and Beauty’s son and rosemary – Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly – Born of the sea supposedly, At Christmas each, in company, Braids a garland of festivity. Not always rosemary – Since the flight to Egypt, blooming indifferently. With lancelike leaf, green but silver underneath, Its flowers – white originally – […]...
37. The Bargain MY true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one for another given: I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, There never was a better bargain driven: My true love hath my heart, and I have his. His heart in me keeps him and me in one, My heart […]...
38. Ring Out Your Bells Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread; For Love is dead All love is dead, infected With plague of deep disdain; Worth, as nought worth, rejected, And Faith fair scorn doth gain. From so ungrateful fancy, From such a female franzy, From them that use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us! Weep, neighbours, […]...
39. There Was A Time, I Need Not Name There was a time, I need not name, Since it will ne’er forgotten be, When all our feelings were the same As still my soul hath been to thee. And from that hour when first thy tongue Confess’d a love which equall’d mine, Though many a grief my heart hath wrung, Unknown, and thus unfelt, […]...
40. Two idylls from bion the smyrnean I Once a fowler, young and artless, To the quiet greenwood came; Full of skill was he and heartless In pursuit of feathered game. And betimes he chanced to see Eros perching in a tree. “What strange bird is that, I wonder?” Thought the youth, and spread his snare; Eros, chuckling at the blunder, Gayly […]...