With half-words whispered low:
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And puts out grass and flowers
Despite the snow,
Despite the falling snow.
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Blacksmith Green had three strong sons,
Now John and Ned are perished and dead,But plenty remains of William.John Green was a whiskey drinker,The Land of Cakes supplied him,Till at last his soul flew out by the holeThat the fierce drink burned inside him.Ned Green was a water drinker,And, Lord, how Ned would fuddle!He rotted away his mortal clayLike an old boot…
In my childhood rumors ran
Terrors to the life of manThat the highroad held in store.Of mermaids’ doleful gameIn deep water I heard tell,Of lofty dragons belching flame,Of the hornèd fiend of Hell.Tales like these were too absurdFor my laughter-loving ear:Soon I mocked at all I heard,Though with cause indeed for fear.Now I know the mermaid kinI find them bound…
Here in turn succeed and rule
Then again the place is knownAs tavern, shop, and Sunday-school;Now somehow it’s come to meTo light the fire and hold the key,Here in Heaven to reign alone.All the walls are white with lime,Big blue periwinkles climbAnd kiss the crumbling window-sill;Snug inside I sit and rhyme,Planning, poem, book, or fable,At my darling beech-wood tableFresh with bluebells…
Old Mr. Philosopher
An ugly man, a tall man,With bright-red hair.The books that he’s writtenNo one can read.“In fifty years they’ll understand:Now there’s no need.“All that matters nowIs getting the fun.Come along, Ben and Claire;Plenty to be done.”Then old Philosopher,Wisest man alive,Plays at Lions and TigersDown along the drive—Gambolling fiercelyThrough bushes and grass,Making monstrous mouths,Braying like an assTwisting…
The silent shepherdess,
Here with me exchanging loveUnder dim boughs.Shines on our mysteriesA sudden spark–‘Dout the candle, glow-worm,Let all be dark.‘The birds have sung their last notes,The Sun’s to bed,Glow-worm, dout your candle.’The glow-worm said:‘I also am a lover;The lamp I displayIs beacon for my true loveWandering astray.‘Through the thick bushesAnd the grass comes sheWith a heartload of…
I now delight
Of the mightAnd the rightOf classic tradition,In writingAnd recitingStraight ahead,Without let or omission,Just any little rhymeIn any little timeThat runs in my head;Because, I’ve said,My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayedLike Prussian soldiers on paradeThat march,Stiff as starch,Foot to foot,Boot to boot,Blade to blade,Button to button,Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.No! No!My rhymes must…
With half-words whispered low:
As Earth stirs in her winter sleep
And put out grass and flowers
Despite the snow,
Despite the falling snow.
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So far from praising he blasphemes
Who swears he met with God in dreamsOr face to face in woods and streams,Meshed in their boundaries.‘Has been’ and ‘is’ the seasons bind,(Here glut of bread, there lack of bread).The mill-stones grumble as they grindThat if God is, he must be blind,Or if he was, is dead.Can God with Danae sport and kiss,Or God…
With a fork drive Nature out,
Hedge the flowerbed all about,Pull or stab or cut or burn,She will ever yet return.Look: the constant marigoldSprings again from hidden roots.Baffled gardener, you beholdNew beginnings and new shootsSpring again from hidden roots.Pull or stab or cut or burn,They will ever yet return.Gardener, cursing at the weed,Ere you curse it further, say:Who but you planted…
Why have such scores of lovely, gifted girls
Simple self-sacrifice may be ruled out,And missionary endeavour, nine times out of ten.Repeat ‘impossible men’: not merely rustic,Foul-tempered or depraved(Dramatic foils chosen to show the worldHow well women behave, and always have behaved).Impossible men: idle, illiterate,Self-pitying, dirty, sly,For whose appearance even in City parksExcuses must be made to casual passers-by.Has God’s supply of tolerable husbandsFallen,…
Here down this very way,
King Faun went leaping.He sang, with careless shoutHurling his name about;He sang, with oaken stockHis steps from rock to rockIn safety keeping,“Here Faun is free,Here Faun is free!”Today against yon pine,Forlorn yet still divine,King Faun leant weeping.“They drank my holy brook,My strawberries they took,My private path they trod.”Loud wept the desolate God,Scorn on scorn heaping,“Faun,…
Love is universal migraine,
Blotting out reason.Symptoms of true loveAre leanness, jealousy,Laggard dawns;Are omens and nightmares –Listening for a knock,Waiting for a sign:For a touch of her fingersIn a darkened room,For a searching look.Take courage, lover!Could you endure such painAt any hand but hers?
For me, the naked and the nude
As synonyms that should expressThe same deficiency of dressOr shelter) stand as wide apartAs love from lies, or truth from art.Lovers without reproach will gazeOn bodies naked and ablaze;The Hippocratic eye will seeIn nakedness, anatomy;And naked shines the Goddess whenShe mounts her lion among men.The nude are bold, the nude are slyTo hold each treasonable…