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I must not die of pity; I must live;Grow strong, not sicken; eat, digest my food,That it may build me, and in doing goodTo blood and bone, broaden the sensitiveFastidious pale perception: we contriveLean comfort for the starving, who intrudeUpon…
My earnestness, which might at first offend, Forgive me, for the duty it implies: I am the convoy to the cloudy end Of a most bright and regal enterprise; Which under angry constellations, ill- Mounted and under-rationed and unspurred, Set…
Upon this age, that never speaks its mind,This furtive age, this age endowed with powerTo wake the moon with footsteps, fit an oarInto the rowlocks of the wind, and findWhat swims before his prow, what swirls behind—Upon this gifted age,…
ISee how these masses mill and swarmAnd troop and muster and assail:God! We could keep this planet warmBy friction, if the sun should fail.Mercury, Saturn, Venus, Mars:If no prow cuts your arid seas,Then in your weightless air no warsExplode with…
Count them unclean, these tears that turn no mill, This salty flux of sorrow from the heart; Count them unclean, and give me one day still To weep, in an avoided room apart. I shall come forth at length with…
If there were balm in Gilead, I would goTo Gilead for your wounds, unhappy land,Gather you balsam there, and with this hand,Made deft by pity, cleanse and bind and sewAnd drench with healing, that your strength might grow,(Though love be…
Not only love plus awful grief,The ardent and consuming painOf all who loved and who remainTo tend alone the buried briefEternal, propping laurel leafAnd frozen rose above the slain,—But pity lest they die againMakes of the mind an iron sheafOf…
Be sure my coming was a sharp offense And trouble to my mother in her bed; And harsh to me must be my going hence, Though I were old and spent and better dead; Between the awful spears of birth…
When did I ever deny, though this was fleeting,That this was love? When did I ever, I say,With iron thumb put out the eyes of dayIn this cold world where charity lies bleatingUnder a thorn, and none to give him…
I too beneath your moon, almighty Sex,Go forth at nightfall crying like a cat,Leaving the lofty tower I laboured atFor birds to foul and boys and girls to vexWith tittering chalk; and you, and the long necksOf neighbours sitting where their mothers…