Nos Immortales by Stephen Vincent Benet
Nos Immortales by Stephen Vincent Benet Perhaps we go with wind and cloud and sun, Into the free companionship of air; Perhaps with sunsets when the day is done, All’s one to me — I do not greatly care; So long as there are brown hills — and a tree Like a mad prophet in […]
Music by Stephen Vincent Benet
Music by Stephen Vincent Benet My friend went to the piano; spun the stool A little higher; left his pipe to cool; Picked up a fat green volume from the chest; And propped it open. Whitely without rest, His fingers swept the keys that flashed like swords, . . . And to the brute drums […]
May Morning by Stephen Vincent Benet
May Morning by Stephen Vincent Benet I lie stretched out upon the window-seat And doze, and read a page or two, and doze, And feel the air like water on me close, Great waves of sunny air that lip and beat With a small noise, monotonous and sweet, Against the window — and the scent […]
Love in Twilight by Stephen Vincent Benet
Love in Twilight by Stephen Vincent Benet There is darkness behind the light — and the pale light drips Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen loom Like the carven prows of proud, far-triumphing ships — And the firelight wavers and changes about the room, As the three logs crackle and burn with a […]
Lonely Burial by Stephen Vincent Benet
Lonely Burial by Stephen Vincent Benet There were not many at that lonely place, Where two scourged hills met in a little plain. The wind cried loud in gusts, then low again. Three pines strained darkly, runners in a race Unseen by any. Toward the further woods A dim harsh noise of voices rose and […]
Going Back to School by Stephen Vincent Benet
Going Back to School by Stephen Vincent Benet The boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past And all the grey waves flamed to red again At the dead sun’s last glimmer. Far and vast The Sausalito lights burned suddenly In little dots and clumps, as if a pen Had scrawled vague lines of gold across […]
Ghosts of a Lunatic Asylum by Stephen Vincent Benet
Ghosts of a Lunatic Asylum by Stephen Vincent Benet Here, where men’s eyes were empty and as bright As the blank windows set in glaring brick, When the wind strengthens from the sea — and night Drops like a fog and makes the breath come thick; By the deserted paths, the vacant halls, One may […]
Elegy for an Enemy by Stephen Vincent Benet
Elegy for an Enemy by Stephen Vincent Benet (For G. H.) Say, does that stupid earth Where they have laid her, Bind still her sullen mirth, Mirth which betrayed her? Do the lush grasses hold, Greenly and glad, That brittle-perfect gold She alone had? Smugly the common crew, Over their knitting, Mourn her — as […]
Dinner in a Quick Lunch Room by Stephen Vincent Benet
Dinner in a Quick Lunch Room by Stephen Vincent Benet Soup should be heralded with a mellow horn, Blowing clear notes of gold against the stars; Strange entrees with a jangle of glass bars Fantastically alive with subtle scorn; Fish, by a plopping, gurgling rush of waters, Clear, vibrant waters, beautifully austere; Roast, with a […]
Dedication by Stephen Vincent Benet
Dedication by Stephen Vincent Benet To W. R. B. And so, to you, who always were Perseus, D’Artagnan, Lancelot To me, I give these weedy rhymes In memory of earlier times. Now all those careless days are not. Of all my heroes, you endure. Words are such silly things! too rough, Too smooth, they boil […]
Colors by Stephen Vincent Benet
Colors by Stephen Vincent Benet (For D. M. C.) The little man with the vague beard and guise Pulled at the wicket. “Come inside!” he said, “I’ll show you all we’ve got now — it was size You wanted? — oh, dry colors! Well” — he led To a dim alley lined with musty bins, […]
Before an Examination by Stephen Vincent Benet
Before an Examination by Stephen Vincent Benet The little letters dance across the page, Flaunt and retire, and trick the tired eyes; Sick of the strain, the glaring light, I rise Yawning and stretching, full of empty rage At the dull maunderings of a long dead sage, Fling up the windows, fling aside his lies; […]
Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua by Stephen Vincent Benet
Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua by Stephen Vincent Benet Next, then, the peacock, gilt With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes Flow in the eyes! And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt Along the back, that like a sea-wave’s crest Scatters soft beauty o’er th’ emblazoned breast! A strange […]
A Minor Poet by Stephen Vincent Benet
A Minor Poet by Stephen Vincent Benet I am a shell. From me you shall not hear The splendid tramplings of insistent drums, The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes, Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear. Yet, if you hold me close against the ear, A dim, far whisper rises clamorously, The thunderous […]
Zoo-Keeper’s Wife by Sylvia Plath
I can stay awake all night, if need be — Cold as an eel, without eyelids. Like a dead lake the dark envelops me, Blueblack, a spectacular plum fruit. No air bubbles start from my heart. I am lungless And ugly, my belly a silk stocking Where the heads and tails of my sisters decompose. […]
You’re by Sylvia Plath
Clownlike, happiest on your hands, Feet to the stars, and moon-skulled, Gilled like a fish. A common-sense Thumbs-down on the dodo’s mode. Wrapped up in yourself like a spool, Trawling your dark, as owls do. Mute as a turnip from the Fourth Of July to All Fools’ Day, O high-riser, my little loaf. Vague as […]
Yadwigha, On A Red Couch, Among Lillies by Sylvia Plath
Yadwigha, the literalists once wondered how you Came to be lying on this baroque couch Upholstered in red velvet, under the eye Of uncaged tigers and a tropical moon, Set in intricate wilderness of green Heart-shaped leaves, like catalpa leaves, and lillies Of monstrous size, like no well-bred lilies It seems teh consistent critics wanted […]
Yaddo : The Grand Manor by Sylvia Plath
Woodsmoke and a distant loudspeaker Filter into this clear Air, and blur. The red tomato’s in, the green bean; The cook lugs a pumpkin From the vine For pies. The fir tree’s thick with grackles. Gold carp loom in the pools. A wasp crawls Over windfalls to sip cider-juice. Guests in the studios Muse, compose. […]
Wreath For A Bridal by Sylvia Plath
What though green leaves only witness Such pact as is made once only; what matter That owl voice sole ‘yes’, while cows utter Low moos of approve; let sun surpliced in brightness Stand stock still to laud these mated ones Whose stark act all coming double luck joins. Couched daylong in cloisters of stinging nettle […]
Words Heard, By Accident, Over The Phone by Sylvia Plath
O mud, mud, how fluid! — Thick as foreign coffee, and with a sluggy pulse. Speak, speak! Who is it? It is the bowel-pulse, lover of digestibles. It is he who has achieved these syllables. What are these words, these words? They are plopping like mud. O god, how shall I ever clean the phone […]
A Winter’s Tale by Sylvia Plath
On Boston Common a red star Gleams, wired to a tall Ulmus Americana. Magi near The domed State House. Old Joseph holds an alpenstock. Two waxen oxen flank the Child. A black sheep leads the shepherds’ flock. Mary looks mild. Angels-more feminine and douce Than models from Bonwit’s or Jay’s, Haloes lustrous as Sirius- Gilt […]
Winter Landscape, With Rooks by Sylvia Plath
Water in the millrace, through a sluice of stone, plunges headlong into that black pond where, absurd and out-of-season, a single swan floats chaste as snow, taunting the clouded mind which hungers to haul the white reflection down. The austere sun descends above the fen, an orange cyclops-eye, scorning to look longer on this landscape […]
Watercolor Of Grantchester Meadows by Sylvia Plath
There, spring lambs jam the sheepfold. In air Stilled, silvered as water in a glass Nothing is big or far. The small shrew chitters from its wilderness Of grassheads and is heard. Each thumb-sized bird Fits nimble-winged in thickets, and of good color. Cloudrack and owl-hollowed willows slanting over The bland Granta double their white […]
Waking In Winter by Sylvia Plath
I can taste the tin of the sky — the real tin thing. Winter dawn is the color of metal, The trees stiffen into place like burnt nerves. All night I have dreamed of destruction, annihilations — An assembly-line of cut throats, and you and I Inching off in the gray Chevrolet, drinking the green […]
Virgin In A Tree by Sylvia Plath
How this tart fable instructs And mocks! Here’s the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers Approving chased girls who get them to a tree And put on bark’s nun-black Habit which deflects All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the virgin shape In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers, Whether […]
Two Views Of Withens by Sylvia Plath
Above whorled, spindling gorse, Sheepfoot-flattened grasses, Stone wall and ridgepole rise Prow-like through blurs Of fog in that hinterland few Hikers get to: Home of uncatchable Sage hen and spry rabbit, Where second wind, hip boot Help over hill And hill, and through peaty water. I found bare moor, A colorless weather, And the House […]
Two Views Of A Cadaver Room by Sylvia Plath
1 The day she visited the dissecting room They had four men laid out, black as burnt turkey, Already half unstrung. A vinegary fume Of the death vats clung to them; The white-smocked boys started working. The head of his cadaver had caved in, And she could scarcely make out anything In that rubble of […]
Two Sisters Of Persephone by Sylvia Plath
Two girls there are : within the house One sits; the other, without. Daylong a duet of shade and light Plays between these. In her dark wainscoted room The first works problems on A mathematical machine. Dry ticks mark time As she calculates each sum. At this barren enterprise Rat-shrewd go her squint eyes, Root-pale […]
Two Lovers And A Beachcomber By The Real Sea by Sylvia Plath
Cold and final, the imagination Shuts down its fabled summer house; Blue views are boarded up; our sweet vacation Dwindles in the hour-glass. Thoughts that found a maze of mermaid hair Tangling in the tide’s green fall Now fold their wings like bats and disappear Into the attic of the skull. We are not what […]
Two Campers In Cloud Country by Sylvia Plath
(Rock Lake, Canada) In this country there is neither measure nor balance To redress the dominance of rocks and woods, The passage, say, of these man-shaming clouds. No gesture of yours or mine could catch their attention, No word make them carry water or fire the kindling Like local trolls in the spell of a […]
Trio Of Love Songs by Sylvia Plath
(1) Major faults in granite mark a mortal lack, yet individual planet directs all zodiac. Diagram of mountains graphs a fever chart, yet astronomic fountains exit from the heart. Tempo of strict ocean metronomes the blood, yet ordered lunar motion proceeds from private flood. Drama of each season plots doom from above, yet all angelic […]
To Eva Descending The Stair by Sylvia Plath
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear; The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running. (Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.) The asteroids turn traitor in the air, And planets plot with old elliptic cunning; Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear. Red the unraveled rose sings in your hair: Blood springs eternal […]
To A Jilted Lover by Sylvia Plath
Cold on my narrow cot I lie and in sorrow look through my window-square of black: figured in the midnight sky, a mosaic of stars diagrams the falling years, while from the moon, my lover’s eye chills me to death with radiance of his frozen faith. Once I wounded him with so small a thorn […]
Tinker Jack And The Tidy Wives by Sylvia Plath
‘Come lady, bring that pot Gone black of polish And whatever pan this mending master Should trim back to shape. I’ll correct each mar On silver dish, And shine that kettle of copper At your fireside Bright as blood. ‘Come lady, bring that face Fallen from luster. Time’s soot in bleared eye Can be made […]
The Trial Of A Man by Sylvia Plath
The ordinary milkman brought that dawn Of destiny, delivered to the door In square hermetic bottles, while the sun Ruled decree of doomsday on the floor. The morning paper clocked the headline hour You drank your coffee lke original sin, And at the jet-plane anger of God’s roar Got up to let the suave blue […]
The Tour by Sylvia Plath
O maiden aunt, you have come to call. Do step into the hall! With your bold Gecko, the little flick! All cogs, weird sparkle and every cog solid gold. And I in slippers and housedress with no lipstick! And you want to be shown about! Yes, yes, this is my address. Not a patch on […]
The Times Are Tidy by Sylvia Plath
Unlucky the hero born In this province of the stuck record Where the most watchful cooks go jobless And the mayor’s rôtisserie turns Round of its own accord. There’s no career in the venture Of riding against the lizard, Himself withered these latter-days To leaf-size from lack of action: History’s beaten the hazard. The last […]
The Thin People by Sylvia Plath
They are always with us, the thin people Meager of dimension as the gray people On a movie-screen. They Are unreal, we say: It was only in a movie, it was only In a war making evil headlines when we Were small that they famished and Grew so lean and would not round Out their […]
The Swarm by Sylvia Plath
Somebody is shooting at something in our town – A dull pom, pom in the Sunday street. Jealousy can open the blood, It can make black roses. Who are the shooting at? It is you the knives are out for At Waterloo, Waterloo, Napoleon, The hump of Elba on your short back, And the snow, […]
The Surgeon At 2 A.M. by Sylvia Plath
The white light is artificial, and hygienic as heaven. The microbes cannot survive it. They are departing in their transparent garments, turned aside From the scalpels and the rubber hands. The scalded sheet is a snowfield, frozen and peaceful. The body under it is in my hands. As usual there is no face. A lump […]