Seasons Of The Soul (Allen Tate Poems)
To the memory of John Peale Bishop, 1892-1944Attor porsi la mano un poco avante,e colsi un ramicel da un gran ...
Allen Tate Poems (61 Poems)
Fragment Of A Meditation (Allen Tate Poems)
Not yet the thirtieth year, the thirtiethStation where time reverses his light heelsTo rim both ways, and makes of forward ...
Causerie (Allen Tate Poems)
. . . party on the stage of the Earl Carroll Theatre onFeb. 23. At this party Joyce Hawley, a ...
To The Lacedemonians (Allen Tate Poems)
An old soldier on the night before the veteransreunion talks partly to himself, partly to imaginary comrades:The people-people of my ...
Ode To The Confederate Dead (Allen Tate Poems)
Row after row with strict impunityThe headstones yield their names to the element,The wind whirs without recollection;In the riven troughs ...
Retroduction To American History (Allen Tate Poems)
Cats walk the floor at midnight; that enemy of fog,The moon, wraps the bedpost in receding stillness; sleepCollects all weary ...
Message From Abroad (Allen Tate Poems)
To Andrew LytleParis, November 1929Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, althoughtheir ancestors nearly two hundred years have ...
Ode To Our Young Pro-Consuls Of The Air (Allen Tate Poems)
To St. John PerseOnce more the country callsFrom sleep, as from his doom,Each citizen to takeHis modest stakeWhere the sky ...
Records (Allen Tate Poems)
I. A DREAMAt nine years a sickly boy lay downAt bedtime on a cot by mother's bedAnd as the two ...
The Meaning Of Death (Allen Tate Poems)
An After-Dinner SpeechI rise, gentlemen, it is the pleasant hour.Darkness falls. The night falls. ...
Eclogue Of The Liberal And The Poet (Allen Tate Poems)
LIBERALIn that place, shepherd, all the men are dead.POETYes, look at the water grim and blackWhere immense Europa rears her ...
A Carrion (Allen Tate Poems)
(From the French of Charles Baudelaire)Remember now, my Love, what piteous thingWe saw on a summer's gracious day:By the roadside ...
Mother And Son (Allen Tate Poems)
Now all day long the man who is not deadHastens the dark with inattentive eyes,The woman with white hand and ...
Winter Mask (Allen Tate Poems)
To the memory of W. B. YeatsITowards nightfall when the windTries the eaves and casements(A winter wind of the mindLong ...
The Mediterranea (Allen Tate Poems)
Quem das finem, rex magne, dolorum?Where we went in the boat was a long bayA slingshot wide, walled in by ...
Last Days Of Alice (Allen Tate Poems)
Alice grown lazy, mammoth but not fat,Declines upon her lost and twilight age;Above in the dozing leaves the grinning catQuivers ...
Jubilo (Allen Tate Poems)
To Arthur MizenerHit mus be now de Kingdom comiriAnd de year of Jubilo . . .Tail-spinning from the shelves of ...
Aeneas At Washington (Allen Tate Poems)
I myself saw furious with bloodNeoptolemus, at his side the black Atridae,Hecuba and the hundred daughters, PriamCut down, his filth ...
Emblems (Allen Tate Poems)
IMaryland, Virginia, CarolinePent images in sleepClay valleys rocky hills old fields of pineUnspeakable and deepOut of that source of time ...
False Nightmare (Allen Tate Poems)
I give the yawp barbaricOf piety and pelf(Who now reads Herrick?)And contradict myselfNo matter, the verse is large.My five-and-ten cent ...
A Pauper (Allen Tate Poems)
. . . and the children's teeth shall be set on edge.I see him old, trapped in a burly houseCold ...
Idiot (Allen Tate Poems)
The idiot greens the meadow with his eyes,The meadow creeps implacable and still;A dog barks, the hammock swings, he lies.One ...
Inside And Outside (Allen Tate Poems)
INow twenty-four or maybe twenty-fiveWas the woman's age, and her white brow was sleek;Lips parted in surprise, the flawless cheek;The ...
The Wolves (Allen Tate Poems)
There are wolves in the next room waitingWith heads bent low, thrust out, breathingAt nothing in the dark; between them ...
The Eye (Allen Tate Poems)
To E. E. CummingsI see the horses and the sad streetsOf my childhood in an agate eyeRoving, under the clean ...
Ode To Fear (Allen Tate Poems)
Variation on a Theme by CollinsLet the day glare: O memory, your treadBeats to the pulse of suffocating night-Night peering ...
The Meaning Of Life (Allen Tate Poems)
A MonologueThink about it at will: there is thatWhich is the commentary; there's that other,Which may be called the immaculateConception ...
To The Romantic Traditionists (Allen Tate Poems)
I have looked at them long,My eyes blur; sourceless lightKeeps them forever youngBefore our ageing sight.You see them-too strict formsOf ...
Obituary (Allen Tate Poems)
In memory of S. B. V., 1834-1909... so what the lame four-poster gathered hereBetween the lips of stale and seasoned ...
Death Of Little Boys (Allen Tate Poems)
When little boys grown patient at last, weary,Surrender their eyes immeasurably to the night,The event will rage terrific as the ...