Category Poets

Look how the bittersweet with lazy muscle moves aside Great stones placed here by planning men not without sweat and pride.And yet how beautiful this broken wall appliedNo more to its first duty: to keep sheep or cattle in;Bought up…

I woke in the night and heard the wind, and it blowing half a gale.”Blizzard, by gum!” I said to myself out loud, “What an elegantHissing and howling, what a roar!”And I rose, half-rose, in bed, andListened to the wind,…

Poor, dying thing: it was my dog, not I,That did for you.I gave you a wide arc, and moved to pass. And yet, I was not sad that you should die;You jarred me so; you were too motionlessAnd sudden, coiled…

Sky-coloured bird, blue wings with no more spots of spotless whiteDappled, than on a day in springWhen the brown meadows trickle with a hundred brooks two inches broad and wink and flash back light—Dappled with no more white than on…

I had a gardener. I had him until haying-time.In haying-time they set him pitching hay.I had two gardeners. I had them until haying-time.In haying-time they set them pitching hay.I had three gardeners. I had them until haying-time.—Can life go on…

IEven Sweet Basil: even you,Lemon Verbena: must exert yourselves now and somewhat hardenAgainst untimely frost; I have hovered you and covered you and kept going smudges,Until I am close to worn-out. Now, youGo about it. I have other things to…

Charming, the movement of girls about a May-pole in May,Weaving the coloured ribbons in and out,Charming; youth is charming, youth is fair. But beautiful the movement of men striking pikesInto the end of a black pole, and slowlyRaising it out…

How did I bear it—how could I possibly as a child,On my narrow shoulders and pipe-stem legs have supported The fragrance and the colour of the frangible hour, the deep Taste of the shallow dish?—It is not as ifI had…

I, in disgust with the living, having readMuch of the accomplished dead,Was nagged by the clucking of the robin, clucking her over-fedYoung off the nest—and what a night, I said,Raining cats and dogs and blowing like hell, To haul babies…

The sea at sunset can reflect,And does, the thin flamingo cloud,The pale-green rift beneath; the skyAlone can say these things aloud;The water ripples, and refractsCelestial into water acts.But this is lovely: you detectThe sky, from ocean’s brief defect. I left…