Dedication

Related poetry:

1. Dedication Inscribed to a Dear Child: In Memory of Golden Summer Hours And Whispers of a Summer Sea Girt with a boyish garb for boyish task, Eager she wields her spade: yet loves as well Rest on a friendly knee, intent to ask The tale he loves to tell. Rude spirits of the seething outer strife, […]...
2. Dedication To M Swing of the heart. O firmly hung, fastened on what Invisible branch. Who, who gave you the push, That you swung with me into the leaves? How near I was to the exquisite fruits. But not-staying Is the essence of this motion. Only the nearness, only Toward the forever-too-high, all at once the possible Nearness. […]...
3. Mossbawn: Two Poems in Dedication 1. Sunlight There was a sunlit absence. The helmeted pump in the yard Heated its iron, Water honeyed In the slung bucket And the sun stood Like a griddle cooling Against the wall Of each long afternoon. So, her hands scuffled Over the bakeboard, The reddening stove Sent its plaque of heat Against her where […]...
4. Dedication To the City of Bombay The Cities are full of pride, Challenging each to each This from her mountain-side, That from her burthened beach. They count their ships full tale Their corn and oil and wine, Derrick and loom and bale, And rampart’s gun-flecked line; City by City they hail: “Hast aught to match with […]...
5. I Love You I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my […]...
6. Talking XX And then a scholar said, “Speak of Talking.” And he answered, saying: You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your […]...
7. DEDICATION The morn arrived; his footstep quickly scared The gentle sleep that round my senses clung, And I, awak’ning, from my cottage fared, And up the mountain side with light heart sprung; At every step I felt my gaze ensnared By new-born flow’rs that full of dew-drops hung; The youthful day awoke with ecstacy, And all […]...
8. Dedication Dedication These to His Memory since he held them dear, Perchance as finding there unconsciously Some image of himself I dedicate, I dedicate, I consecrate with tears These Idylls. And indeed He seems to me Scarce other than my king’s ideal knight, ‘Who reverenced his conscience as his king; Whose glory was, redressing human wrong; […]...
9. Boo to Buddha So it is eighteen years, Helena, since we met! A season so endears, Nor you nor I forget The fresh young faces that once clove In that most fiery dawn of love. We wandered to and fro, Who knew not how to woo, Those eighteen years ago, Sweetheart, when I and you Exchanged high vows […]...
10. Senses Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight. Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various Colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim. My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame And place […]...
11. My Strawberry O marvel, fruit of fruits, I pause To reckon thee. I ask what cause Set free so much of red from heats At core of earth, and mixed such sweets With sour and spice: what was that strength Which out of darkness, length by length, Spun all thy shining thread of vine, Netting the fields […]...
12. Edmund Pollard I would I had thrust my hands of flesh Into the disk-flowers bee-infested, Into the mirror-like core of fire Of the light of life, the sun of delight. For what are anthers worth or petals Or halo-rays? Mockeries, shadows Of the heart of the flower, the central flame! All is yours, young passer-by; Enter the […]...
13. A Memory of the Players in a Mirror at Midnight They mouth love’s language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh. Love’s breath in you is stale, worded or sung, As sour as cat’s breath, Harsh of tongue. This grey that stares Lies not, stark skin and bone. Leave greasy lips their kissing. […]...
14. If You Forget Me I want you to know One thing. You know how this is: If I look At the crystal moon, at the red branch Of the slow autumn at my window, If I touch Near the fire The impalpable ash Or the wrinkled body of the log, Everything carries me to you, As if everything that […]...
15. I have no Life but this I have no Life but this To lead it here Nor any Death but lest Dispelled from there Nor tie to Earths to come Nor Action new Except through this extent The Realm of you...
16. A Dedication They are rhymes rudely strung with intent less Of sound than of words, In lands where bright blossoms are scentless, And songless bright birds; Where, with fire and fierce drought on her tresses, Insatiable Summer oppresses Sere woodlands and sad wildernesses, And faint flocks and herds. Where in drieariest days, when all dews end, And […]...
17. 113. A Dedication to Gavin Hamilton, Esq EXPECT na, sir, in this narration, A fleechin, fleth’rin Dedication, To roose you up, an’ ca’ you guid, An’ sprung o’ great an’ noble bluid, Because ye’re surnam’d like His Grace- Perhaps related to the race: Then, when I’m tir’d-and sae are ye, Wi’ mony a fulsome, sinfu’ lie, Set up a face how I […]...
18. Dedication for a House We, who were long together homeless, raise Brick walls, wood floors, a roof, and windows up To what sustained us in those threatening days Unto this end. Alas, that this bright cup Be empty of the care and life of him Who should have made it overflow its brim....
19. SUMMER FEVER The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the wind, Yielding as much as their nature allows, They will break if pushed too far, Splinter to show the white flesh of their wood And sweet transparencies of sap. If 1 am pushed too far […]...
20. Psalm 16 part 3 Courage in death, and hope of the resurrection. When God is nigh, my faith is strong; His arm is my almighty prop: Be glad, my heart; rejoice, my tongue; My dying flesh shall rest in hope. Though in the dust I lay my head, Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave My soul for ever […]...
21. Poem (Halleck monument dedication) SAY not the Poet dies! Though in the dust he lies, He cannot forfeit his melodious breath, Unsphered by envious death! Life drops the voiceless myriads from its roll; Their fate he cannot share, Who, in the enchanted air Sweet with the lingering strains that Echo stole, Has left his dearer self, the music of […]...
22. Dedication To Christina G. Rossetti Songs light as these may sound, though deep and strong The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng Songs light as these. Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at ease, Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong The shrine it serves […]...
23. A Dedication. To Charlotte Cushman As Love will carve dear names upon a tree, Symbol of gravure on his heart to be, So thought I thine with loving text to set In the growth and substance of my canzonet; But, writing it, my tears begin to fall This wild-rose stem for thy large name’s too small! Nay, still my trembling […]...
24. Dirge in Woods A wind sways the pines, And below Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines Of the roots here and there. The pine-tree drops its dead; They are quiet, as under the sea. Overhead, overhead Rushes life in a race, As the clouds the […]...
25. Sonnet XXIX: When Conquering Love To the Senses When conquering Love did first my Heart assail, Unto mine aid I summon’d every Sense, Doubting, if that proud tyrant should prevail, My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes’ offence; But he with Beauty first corrupted Sight, My Hearing bribed with her tongue’s harmony, My Taste by her sweet lips drawn with […]...
26. WINDSONG I drowse and dream in this sleeping house Fynbos the cat purring by the curtain Suriya the sun god sharing the garden Where joss sticks burn and my nostrils quiver At the echo of Japanese songs, long ago. In the breaking day I kiss your lips And taste the tongue of your waking shadow....
27. I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went! And more must, in yet longer light’s delay. With witness I speak this. But where I say Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament […]...
28. Armand Barbes Fire out of heaven, a flower of perfect fire, That where the roots of life are had its root And where the fruits of time are brought forth fruit; A faith made flesh, a visible desire, That heard the yet unbreathing years respire And speech break forth of centuries that sit mute Beyond all feebler […]...
29. Miscarriage Fold this, our daughter’s grave, And seal it with your kiss. For all the love I gave, You owe me this. Inside of me, she had Your lips and tongue, my air Of grimness, thin and sad, With your thick hair. Inside of you, I trust, She was a simple mesh Of need and paper, […]...
30. Samuel Gardner I who kept the greenhouse, Lover of trees and flowers, Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm, Measuring its generous branches with my eye, And listened to its rejoicing leaves Lovingly patting each other With sweet aeolian whispers. And well they might: For the roots had grown so wide and deep That the soil of […]...
31. Chiang Chin Chiu See the waters of the Yellow River leap down from Heaven, Roll away to the deep sea and never turn again! See at the mirror In the High Hall Aged men bewailing white locks – In the morning, threads of silk, In the evening flakes of snow. Snatch the joys Of life as they come […]...
32. The White Mans Burden Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig And lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: Maybe it was the voice of the rain crying, A cracked bell, or a torn heart. Something from far off it seemed Deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth, A shout muffled by huge autumns, […]...
33. The Homicide They say she speeded wanton wild When she was warm with wine; And so she killed a little child, (Could have been yours or mine). The Judge’s verdict was not mild, And heavy was the fine. And yet I see her driving still, But maybe with more care. . . Oh I should hate a […]...
34. The Last Supper Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, And the mouth so mocking gay, A wanton you to the finger-tips, Who break men’s hearts in play; A thing of dust I have striven for, Honour and manhood given for, Headlong to ruin driven for, And this is the last, you say. . . . Drinking your wine […]...
35. Hymn 74 The church the garden of Christ. SS 4:12-15; 5:1. We are a garden walled around, Chosen and made peculiar ground; A little spot enclosed by grace Out of the world’s wide wilderness. Like trees of myrrh and spice we stand, Planted by God the Father’s hand; And all his springs in Zion flow, To make […]...
36. Church And State Here is fresh matter, poet, Matter for old age meet; Might of the Church and the State, Their mobs put under their feet. O but heart’s wine shall run pure, Mind’s bread grow sweet. That were a cowardly song, Wander in dreams no more; What if the Church and the State Are the mob that […]...
37. Dedication To W. R. B. And so, to you, who always were Perseus, D’Artagnan, Lancelot To me, I give these weedy rhymes In memory of earlier times. Now all those careless days are not. Of all my heroes, you endure. Words are such silly things! too rough, Too smooth, they boil up or congeal, And neither […]...
38. Dedication In youth I longed to paint The loveliness I saw; And yet by dire constraint I had to study Law. But now all that is past, And I have no regret, For I am free at last Law to forget. To beauty newly born With brush and tube I play; And though my daubs you […]...
39. Dedication You whom I could not save Listen to me. Try to understand this simple speech as I would be ashamed of another. I swear, there is in me no wizardry of words. I speak to you with silence like a cloud or a tree. What strengthened me, for you was lethal. You mixed up farewell […]...
40. Dedication MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs – The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, and say I had rather bring a light to your clear eyes, Had rather hear you praise This bosomful of songs Than that […]...