To Certain Poets (Joyce Kilmer Poem)
Now is the rhymer's honest trade A thing for scornful laughter made. The merchant's sneer, the clerk's disdain, These are ...
Now is the rhymer's honest trade A thing for scornful laughter made. The merchant's sneer, the clerk's disdain, These are ...
Within the broken Vatican The murdered Pope is lying dead. The soldiers of Valerian Their evil hands are wet and ...
Why is that wanton gossip Fame So dumb about this man's affairs? Why do we titter at his name Who ...
(For Thomas Walsh) I On nights like this the huddled sheep Are like white clouds upon the grass, And merry ...
(For A. K. K.) What distant mountains thrill and glow Beneath our Lady Folly's tread? Why has she left us, ...
1814-1914 When, on a novel's newly printed page We find a maudlin eulogy of sin, And read of ways that ...
Vain is the chiming of forgotten bells That the wind sways above a ruined shrine. Vainer his voice in whom ...
We who beg for bread as we daily tread Country lane and city street, Let us kneel and pray on ...
Severe against the pleasant arc of sky The great stone box is cruelly displayed. The street becomes more dreary from ...
(From the French of Emile Verhaeren) He who walks through the meadows of Champagne At noon in Fall, when leaves ...
When I am tired of earnest men, Intense and keen and sharp and clever, Pursuing fame with brush or pen ...
(For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throats That throbbed with loud and rhythmic glee And dammed the flood ...
Her lips' remark was: "Oh, you kid!" Her soul spoke thus (I know it did): "O king of realms of ...
Why didst thou carve thy speech laboriously, And match and blend thy words with curious art? For Song, one saith, ...
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used to be full of trout, But there's nothing there now ...
(For Helen Parry Eden) "Hail Mary, full of grace," the Angel saith. Our Lady bows her head, and is ashamed; ...
In alien earth, across a troubled sea, His body lies that was so fair and young. His mouth is stopped, ...
(For My Mother) The fragile splendour of the level sea, The moon's serene and silver-veiled face, Make of this vessel ...
Not on the lute, nor harp of many strings Shall all men praise the Master of all song. Our life ...
(For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside ...
(For Aline) Now by what whim of wanton chance Do radiant eyes know sombre days? And feet that shod in ...
(For Louise Imogen Guiney) There is a wall of flesh before the eyes Of John, who yet perceives and hails ...
The air is like a butterfly With frail blue wings. The happy earth looks at the sky And sings. (Joyce ...
When you had played with life a space And made it drink and lust and sing, You flung it back ...
The boom and blare of the big brass band is cheering to my heart And I like the smell of ...
My hands were stained with blood, my heart was proud and cold, My soul is black with shame . . ...
No longer of Him be it said "He hath no place to lay His head." In every land a constant ...
(For Aline) Because the road was steep and long And through a dark and lonely land, God set upon my ...
Serene he stands, with mist serenely crowned, And draws a cloak of trees about his breast. The thunder roars but ...
"Dulce et decorum est" The bugle echoes shrill and sweet, But not of war it sings to-day. The road is ...
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