Poetry Books

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. I love it, I love it; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old arm-chair? I've cherished it long as a sainted prize; I've bedewed it with tears and embalmed it with sighs 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell?—a mother sat there: And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair. In... more...

TO MY PEN I Thou feeble implement of mind,Wherewith she strove to scrawl hername;But, like a mitcher, left behindNo signature, no stroke, no claim,No hint that she hath pined— Shall ever come a stronger time,When thou shalt be a tool of skill,And steadfast purpose, to fulfilA higher task than rhyme? II Thou puny instrument of soul,Wherewith she labours to impartHer efforts at some arduous goal;But... more...

CANTO XVIII THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds.  Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks,... more...

Nuts Crazy as a cashew.Unbelievably lucky, I keep my job,live alone,lead a lucky life. Always the same old job,17 years of it. Go nowhere.Be nobody.Do nothing. Sheer luxury. They got to me. They drove meoff the deep end. But I’m luckywith my label,and my safe job. Shame I’m nuts.Blissful,lucky,shame. Mind Stew Boil, boil, andon it stews,the broth that cooks,on the stovethat is my mind. Ideas bob... more...

CANTO I His glory, by whose might all things are mov'd,Pierces the universe, and in one partSheds more resplendence, elsewhere less.  In heav'n,That largeliest of his light partakes, was I,Witness of things, which to relate againSurpasseth power of him who comes from thence;For that, so near approaching its desireOur intellect is to such depth absorb'd,That memory cannot follow.... more...

Memories II   Places  Old Tunes  "Only in Sleep"  Redbirds  Sunset: St. Louis  The Coin  The Voice III   Day and Night  Compensation  I Remembered  "Oh You Are Coming"  The Return  Gray Eyes  The Net  The Mystery In a Hospital IV   Open Windows  The New Moon  Eight O'Clock  Lost Things  Pain  The Broken Field  The Unseen  A Prayer V... more...

INVOCATION (From a High Cliff)Sweep unrestOut of my blood,Winds of the sea! Sweep the fogOut of my brainFor I am oneWho has told Life he will be free.Who will not doubt of work that's done,Who will not fear the work to do.Who will hold peaks PrometheanBetter than all Jove's honey-dew.Who when the Vulture tears his breastWill smile into the Terror's Eyes.Who for the World has this... more...

I. THE GLUG QUEST Follow the river and cross the ford,Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board,Climbing the cow-track over the ridge;Tip-toe soft by the little red house,Hold your breath if they touch the latch,Creep to the slip-rails, still as a mouse,Then . . . run like mad for the bracken patch. Worm your way where the fern fronds tallFashion a lace-work over your... more...

THE VOICE THAT SINGS The voice that sings across the night   Of long forgotten days and things,Is there an ear to hear aright   The voice that sings? It is as when a curfew rings   Melodious in the dying light,A sound that flies on pulsing wings. And faded eyes that once were bright   Brim over, as to life it bringsThe echo of a dead delight,   The voice that sings. In vain you fervently... more...

TO NEW YORKFor maid and lad New York is fairy land,Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;A blasted rock and broken twigs assureThe traveler that others fought the moor,And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sandTo build the city on a granite... more...