Yesterday by W. S. Merwin
Yesterday by W. S. Merwin My friend says I was not a good son you understand I say yes I understand he says I did not go to see my parents very often you know and I say yes I know even when I was living in the same city he says maybe I would […]
Wish by W. S. Merwin
Wish by W. S. Merwin The star in my Hand is falling All the uniforms know what’s no use May I bow to Necessity not To her hirelings ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. […]
Whenever I Go There by W. S. Merwin
Whenever I Go There by W. S. Merwin Whenever I go there everything is changed The stamps on the bandages the titles Of the professors of water The portrait of Glare the reasons for The white mourning In new rocks new insects are sitting With the lights off And once more I remember that the […]
When You Go Away by W. S. Merwin
When You Go Away by W. S. Merwin When you go away the wind clicks around to the north The painters work all day but at sundown the paint falls Showing the black walls The clock goes back to striking the same hour That has no place in the years And at night wrapped in […]
Vehicles by W. S. Merwin
Vehicles by W. S. Merwin This is a place on the way after the distances can no longer be kept straight here in this dark corner of the barn a mound of wheels has convened along raveling courses to stop in a single moment and lie down as still as the chariots of the Pharaohs […]
Unknown Bird by W. S. Merwin
Unknown Bird by W. S. Merwin Out of the dry days through the dusty leaves far across the valley those few notes never heard here before one fluted phrase floating over its wandering secret all at once wells up somewhere else and is gone before it goes on fallen into its own echo leaving a […]
The Speed Of Light by W. S. Merwin
The Speed Of Light by W. S. Merwin So gradual in those summers was the going of the age it seemed that the long days setting out when the stars faded over the mountains were not leaving us even as the birds woke in full song and the dew glittered in the webs it appeared […]
The Source by W. S. Merwin
The Source by W. S. Merwin There in the fringe of trees between the upper field and the edge of the one below it that runs above the valley one time I heard in the early days of summer the clear ringing six notes that I knew were the opening of the Fingal’s Cave Overture […]
The River Of Bees by W. S. Merwin
The River Of Bees by W. S. Merwin In a dream I returned to the river of bees Five orange trees by the bridge and Beside two mills my house Into whose courtyard a blind man followed The goats and stood singing Of what was older Soon it will be fifteen years He was old […]
The Burnt Child by W. S. Merwin
The Burnt Child by W. S. Merwin Matches among other things that were not allowed never would be lying high in a cool blue box that opened in other hands and there they all were bodies clean and smooth blue heads white crowns white sandpaper on the sides of the box scoring fire after fire […]
Term by W. S. Merwin
Term by W. S. Merwin At the last minute a word is waiting not heard that way before and not to be repeated or ever be remembered one that always had been a household word used in speaking of the ordinary everyday recurrences of living not newly chosen or long considered or a matter for […]
Some Last Questions by W. S. Merwin
Some Last Questions by W. S. Merwin What is the head A. Ash What are the eyes A. The wells have fallen in and have Inhabitants What are the feet A. Thumbs left after the auction No what are the feet A. Under them the impossible road is moving Down which the broken necked mice […]
On the Subject of Poetry by W. S. Merwin
On the Subject of Poetry by W. S. Merwin I do not understand the world, Father. By the millpond at the end of the garden There is a man who slouches listening To the wheel revolving in the stream, only There is no wheel there to revolve. He sits in the end of March, but […]
Language by W. S. Merwin
Language by W. S. Merwin Certain words now in our knowledge we will not use again, and we will never forget them. We need them. Like the back of the picture. Like our marrow, and the color in our veins. We shine the lantern of our sleep on them, to make sure, and there they […]
It Is March by W. S. Merwin
It Is March by W. S. Merwin It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has […]
William Stanley Merwin – William Stanley Merwin
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Green Fields by W. S. Merwin
Green Fields by W. S. Merwin By this part of the century few are left who believe in the animals for they are not there in the carved parts of them served on plates and the pleas from the slatted trucks are sounds of shadows that possess no future there is still game for the […]
For A Coming Extinction by W. S. Merwin
For A Coming Extinction by W. S. Merwin Gray whale Now that we are sinding you to The End That great god Tell him That we who follow you invented forgiveness And forgive nothing I write as though you could understand And I could say it One must always pretend something Among the dying When […]
To the Fringed Gentian by William Cullen Bryant
To the Fringed Gentian by William Cullen Bryant Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven’s own blue, That openest when the quiet light Succeeds the keen and frosty night. Thou comest not when violets lean O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen, Or columbines, in purple dressed, Nod o’er the ground-bird’s hidden […]
To a Waterfowl by William Cullen Bryant
To a Waterfowl by William Cullen Bryant Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler’s eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong As, darkly seen against the crimson sky, Thy figure floats […]
The Yellow Violet by William Cullen Bryant
The Yellow Violet by William Cullen Bryant When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird’s warble know, The yellow violet’s modest bell Peeps from last-year’s leaves below. Ere russet fields their green resume, Sweet flower, I love, in forest bare, To meet thee, when thy faint perfume Alone is in the virgin air. […]
The Strange Lady by William Cullen Bryant
The Strange Lady by William Cullen Bryant The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by, As if they loved to breast the breeze that sweeps the cool dear sky; Young Albert, in the forest’s edge, has heard a rustling sound An arrow slightly strikes his hand and falls upon the ground. […]
The Gladness of Nature by William Cullen Bryant
The Gladness of Nature by William Cullen Bryant Is this a time to be cloudy and sad, When our mother Nature laughs around; When even the deep blue heavens look glad, And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground? There are notes of joy from the hang-bird and wren, And the gossip of swallows through all […]
The Death of the Flowers by William Cullen Bryant
The Death of the Flowers by William Cullen Bryant The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit’s tread; The robin […]
The Death of Lincoln by William Cullen Bryant
The Death of Lincoln by William Cullen Bryant Oh, slow to smit and swift to spare, Gentle and merciful and just! Who, in the fear of God, didst bear The sword of power, a nation’s trust! In sorrow by thy bier we stand, Amid the awe that hushes all, And speak the anguish of a […]
The Constellations by William Cullen Bryant
The Constellations by William Cullen Bryant O constellations of the early night, That sparkled brighter as the twilight died, And made the darkness glorious! I have seen Your rays grow dim upon the horizon’s edge, And sink behind the mountains. I have seen The great Orion, with his jewelled belt, That large-limbed warrior of the […]
Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant
Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that […]
October by William Cullen Bryant
October by William Cullen Bryant Ay, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath! When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the […]
November by William Cullen Bryant
November by William Cullen Bryant Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun! One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air, Ere, o’er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran, Or snows are sifted o’er the meadows bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, […]
Mutation by William Cullen Bryant
Mutation by William Cullen Bryant They talk of short-lived pleasure–be it so– Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured pain Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go. The fiercest agonies have shortest reign; And after dreams of horror, comes again The welcome morning with its rays of peace. Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain, Makes the […]
William Cullen Bryant – William Cullen Bryant
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Hymn of the City by William Cullen Bryant
Hymn of the City by William Cullen Bryant Not in the solitude Alone may man commune with heaven, or see Only in savage wood And sunny vale, the present Deity; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty!–here, amidst the crowd, Through […]
XV: Some Verses: Ciprian’s Smyling by William Alexander
The Ciprian’s smyling, led our prince to Spayne, Her husband’s lightning welcomes him againe; Love was but hoped for in a forrayne pairt, He finds it burning heere in every heart. As revells strange would waste the world away, We burned the night, and heaven drown’d the day. Juno and Venus onely frowne a space, […]
XIV: Some Verses: To Mr. Edward Allane by William Alexander
To his deservedlie honored frend, Mr. Edward Allane, the first founder and Master of the Colleige of Gods Gift. Some greate by birth or chance, whom fortune blindes, Where (if it were) trew vertue wold burst forth, They, sense not haveing, can afford no worth, And by their meanes doe but condemne their myndes. To […]
XIII: Some Verses: On A Report On The Death Of The Author by William Alexander
If that were true, which whispered is by Fame, That Damons light no more on Earth doth burne, His patron Phœbus physicke would disclame, And cloath’d in clowds as earst for Phæton mourne. Yea, Fame by this had got so deepe a Wound, That scarce Shee could haue power to tell his Death, Her Wings […]
XII: Some Verses: Sonnet, To The Authour by William Alexander
Of knowne effects, grounds too precisely sought, Young Naturalists oft Atheists old doe proue. And some who naught, saue who first moues, can moue, Scorne mediate meanes, as wonders still were wrought: But tempring both, thou dost this difference euen, Diuine Physician, physicall Diuine; Who soules and bodies help’st, dost heere designe From earth by […]
XI: Some Verses: To His Worthy Friend Master Walter Quin by William Alexander
I must commend the clearenesse of thy mind, Which (stil ingenuous) bent true worth to raise, Though in the graue an obiect fit will find, Not flattring liuing Men with question’d praise. Braue Bernards valour noble Naples sounds: Which scarce his Country venters to proclaime, But sith his sword preuail’d in forraine bounds, Their pennes […]
X: Some Verses: To His Most Affectionate Friend Mr. Lithgow by William Alexander
No Arabs, Turkes, Moores, Sarazens, nor strangers, Woods, Wildernesse, and darke, vmbragous Caues, No Serpents, Beasts, nor cruel fatall dangers, Nor sad regrates of ghostly groning graues, Could thee affright, disswade, disturbe, annoy, To venture life, to winne a world of ioy: This Worke, which pompe-expecting eyes may feed, To Vs, and Thee, shall perfect […]
VII: Some Verses: On The Death of John Murray by William Alexander
Mourne Muses, mourne, your greatest gallant dyes, Who free in state did court your sacred traine, Your Minion Murray, Albiones sweetest swaine, Who soar’d so high, now sore neglected lyes. If of true worth the world had right esteemd His loftie thoughts what bounds could haue confind? But Fortune feard to match with such a […]
V: Some Verses: To The Author Parthenius by William Alexander
While thou dost praise the Roses, Lillies, Gold, Which in a dangling Tresse and Face appeare, Still stands the Sunne in Skies thy Songs to heare, A Silence sweet each Whispering Wind doth hold, Sleepe in Pasitheas Lap his Eyes doth fold, The Sword falls from the God of the fift Spheare, The Heards to […]