Less Time poem – Andre Breton poems
Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes to die; I’ve taken account of everything, there you have it. I’ve made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my fingers and some others; I’ve distributed some pamphlets to the plants, but not all were willing to […]
Freedom of Love poem | L’Union Libre (Ma Femme) – Andre Breton poems
(Translated from the French by Edouard Rodti) My wife with the hair of a wood fire With the thoughts of heat lightning With the waist of an hourglass With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of […]
Le Verbe Etre poem – Andre Breton poems
Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le désespoir n’a pas d’ailes, il ne se tient pas nécessairement à une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de la mer. C’est le désespoir et ce n’est pas le retour d’une quantité de petits faits comme des graines qui quittent à la […]
Five Ways To Kill A Man poem – Andre Breton poems
There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man. You can make him carry a plank of wood to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this properly you require a crowd of people wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and […]
Always for the first time
Always for the first time Hardly do I know you by sight You return at some hour of the night to a house at an angle to my window A wholly imaginary house It is there that from one second to the next In the inviolate darkness I anticipate once more the fascinating rift […]
To The Honble Commodore Hood on His Pardoning a Deserter by Phillis Wheatley
It was thy noble soul and high desert That caus’d these breathings of my grateful heart You sav’d a soul from Pluto’s dreary shore You sav’d his body and he asks no more This generous act Immortal wreaths shall bring To thee for meritorious was the Spring From whence from whence, [sic] this candid ardor […]
To Mrs. Leonard on The Death of Her Husband by Phillis Wheatley
GRIM Monarch! see depriv’d of vital breath, A young Physician in the dust of death! Dost thou go on incessant to destroy: The grief to double, and impair the joy? Enough thou never yet wast known to say, Tho’ millions die thy mandate to obey. Nor youth, nor science nor the charms of love, Nor […]
Phillis Wheatley – Phillis Wheatley
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On The Death of Mr. Snider Murder’d By Richardson by Phillis Wheatley
In heavens eternal court it was decreed How the first martyr for the cause should bleed To clear the country of the hated brood He whet his courage for the common good Long hid before, a vile infernal here Prevents Achilles in his mid career Where’er this fury darts his Pois’nous breath All are endanger’d […]
On Messrs Hussey and Coffin by Phillis Wheatley
Did Fear and Danger so perplex your Mind, As made you fearful of the Whistling Wind? Was it not Boreas knit his angry Brow Against you? or did Consideration bow? To lend you Aid, did not his Winds combine? To stop your passage with a churlish Line, Did haughty Eolus with Contempt look down With […]
On Friendship by Phillis Wheatley
Let amicitia in her ample reign Extend her notes to a Celestial strain Benevolent far more divinely Bright Amor like me doth triumph at the sight When my thoughts in gratitude imploy Mental Imaginations give me Joy Now let my thoughts in Contemplation steer The Footsteps of the Superlative fair Boston July 15 1769 End […]
To The Honble Commodore Hood on His Pardoning a Deserter by Phillis Wheatley
It was thy noble soul and high desert That caus’d these breathings of my grateful heart You sav’d a soul from Pluto’s dreary shore You sav’d his body and he asks no more This generous act Immortal wreaths shall bring To thee for meritorious was the Spring From whence from whence, [sic] this candid ardor […]
His Excellency General Washington by Phillis Wheatley
Celestial choir! enthron’d in realms of light, Columbia’s scenes of glorious toils I write. While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms, She flashes dreadful in refulgent arms. See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan, And nations gaze at scenes before unknown! See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light Involved in sorrows and the veil […]
On Friendship by Phillis Wheatley
Let amicitia in her ample reign Extend her notes to a Celestial strain Benevolent far more divinely Bright Amor like me doth triumph at the sight When my thoughts in gratitude imploy Mental Imaginations give me Joy Now let my thoughts in Contemplation steer The Footsteps of the Superlative fair Boston July 15 1769 End […]
America by Phillis Wheatley
New England first a wilderness was found Till for a continent ’twas destin’d round From feild to feild the savage monsters run E’r yet Brittania had her work begun Thy Power, O Liberty, makes strong the weak And (wond’rous instinct) Ethiopians speak Sometimes by Simile, a victory’s won A certain lady had an only son […]
To The University Of Cambridge, In New-England by Phillis Wheatley
WHILE an intrinsic ardor prompts to write, The muses promise to assist my pen; ‘Twas not long since I left my native shore The land of errors, and Egyptain gloom: Father of mercy, ’twas thy gracious hand Brought me in safety from those dark abodes. Students, to you ’tis giv’n to scan the heights Above, […]
To The Right Honourable William, Earl Of Dartmouth, His Majesty’s Principal Secretary Of The State For North-America, by Phillis Wheatley
HAIL, happy day, when, smiling like the morn, Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn: The northern clime beneath her genial ray, Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway: Elate with hope her race no longer mourns, Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns, While in thine hand with pleasure we behold The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms […]
To the Rev. Dr. Thomas Amory by Phillis Wheatley
To cultivate in ev’ry noble mind Habitual grace, and sentiments refin’d, Thus while you strive to mend the human heart, Thus while the heav’nly precepts you impart, O may each bosom catch the sacred fire, And youthful minds to Virtue’s throne aspire! When God’s eternal ways you set in sight, And Virtue shines in all […]
To The King’s Most Excellent Majesty by Phillis Wheatley
YOUR subjects hope, dread Sire– The crown upon your brows may flourish long, And that your arm may in your God be strong! O may your sceptre num’rous nations sway, And all with love and readiness obey! But how shall we the British king reward! Rule thou in peace, our father, and our lord! Midst […]
To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On the Death Of His Daughter by Phillis Wheatley
WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, And racks your bosom with incessant woe, Let Recollection take a tender part, Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, And pour the […]
To S.M., A Young African Painter, On Seeing His Works by Phillis Wheatley
O show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent, And thought in living characters to paint, When first thy pencil did those beauties give, And breathing figures learnt from thee to live, How did those prospects give my soul delight, A new creation rushing on my sight? Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue, On deathless glories […]
To Mæcenas by Phillis Wheatley
Mæcenas, you, beneath the myrtle shade, Read o’er what poets sung, and shepherds play’d. What felt those poets but you feel the same? Does not your soul possess the sacred flame? Their noble strains your equal genius shares In softer language, and diviner airs. While Homer paints, lo! circumfus’d in air, Celestial Gods in mortal […]
To His Honour the Lieutenant-Governor by Phillis Wheatley
All-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow’r, Hope’s tow’ring plumage falls to rise no more! Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly, Forget their splendors, and submit to die! Who ere escap’d thee, but the saint of old Beyond the flood in sacred annals told, And the great sage, whom fiery coursers drew To heav’n’s bright […]
To Captain H—–d, of the 65th Regiment by Phillis Wheatley
Say, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight The warrior’s bosom in the fields of fight? Lo! here the christian and the hero join With mutual grace to form the man divine. In H—–D see with pleasure and surprise, Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies: Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame, And […]
To A Lady On The Death Of The Three Relations by Phillis Wheatley
WE trace the pow’r of Death from tomb to tomb, And his are all the ages yet to come. ‘Tis his to call the planets from on high, To blacken Phoebus, and dissolve the sky; His too, when all in his dark realms are hurl’d, From its firm base to shake the solid world; His […]
To A Lady On The Death Of Her Husband by Phillis Wheatley
GRIM monarch! see, depriv’d of vital breath, A young physician in the dust of death: Dost thou go on incessant to destroy, Our griefs to double, and lay waste our joy? Enough thou never yet wast known to say, Though millions die, the vassals of thy sway: Nor youth, nor science, not the ties of […]
To a Lady on Her Remarkable Preservation by Phillis Wheatley
Though thou did’st hear the tempest from afar, And felt’st the horrors of the wat’ry war, To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar, And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand Compell’d they Nereids to usurp the land. Reluctant rose the daughters of the main, And slow ascending […]
To a Lady on Her Coming to North-America by Phillis Wheatley
Indulgent muse! my grov’ling mind inspire, And fill my bosom with celestial fire. See from Jamaica’s fervid shore she moves, Like the fair mother of the blooming loves, When from above the Goddess with her hand Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land; Thus she on Neptune’s wat’ry realm reclin’d Appear’d, and thus […]
To a Lady and Her Children by Phillis Wheatley
O’erwhelming sorrow now demands my song: From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung. What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest? What sighs on sighs heave the fond parent’s breast? The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join Th’ increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine; The poor, who once his gen’rous bounty fed, Droop, and bewail […]
To a Gentleman on His Voyage to Great-Britain by Phillis Wheatley
While others chant of gay Elysian scenes, Of balmy zephyrs, and of flow’ry plains, My song more happy speaks a greater name, Feels higher motives and a nobler flame. For thee, O R—–, the muse attunes her strings, And mounts sublime above inferior things. I sing not now of green embow’ring woods, I sing not […]
To a Gentleman and Lady on the Death of the Lady’s Brother and Sister by Phillis Wheatley
On Death’s domain intent I fix my eyes, Where human nature in vast ruin lies, With pensive mind I search the drear abode, Where the great conqu’ror has his spoils bestow’d; There there the offspring of six thousand years In endless numbers to my view appears: Whole kingdoms in his gloomy den are thrust, And […]
To A Clergyman On The Death Of His Lady by Phillis Wheatley
WHERE contemplation finds her sacred spring, Where heav’nly music makes the arches ring, Where virtue reigns unsully’d and divine, Where wisdom thron’d, and all the graces shine, There sits thy spouse amidst the radiant throng, While praise eternal warbles from her tongue; There choirs angelic shout her welcome round, With perfect bliss, and peerless glory […]
Thoughts On The Works Of Providence by Phillis Wheatley
A R I S E, my soul, on wings enraptur’d, rise To praise the monarch of the earth and skies, Whose goodness and benificence appear As round its centre moves the rolling year, Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, Or the sun slumbers in the ocean’s arms: Of light divine be a rich […]
One Being Brought From Africa To America by Phillis Wheatley
‘TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land, Taught my benighted soul to understand That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too: Once I redemption neither sought now knew, Some view our sable race with scornful eye, ‘Their colour is a diabolic die.’ Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, May be refin’d, and join […]
On Virtue by Phillis Wheatley
O Thou bright jewel in my aim I strive To comprehend thee. Thine own words declare Wisdom is higher than a fool can reach. I cease to wonder, and no more attempt Thine height t’ explore, or fathom thy profound. But, O my soul, sink not into despair, Virtue is near thee, and with gentle […]
On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell by Phillis Wheatley
Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread, See Sewell number’d with the happy dead. Hail, holy man, arriv’d th’ immortal shore, Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more. Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes The saint ascending to his native skies; From hence the prophet wing’d his rapt’rous way To […]
On The Death Of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield by Phillis Wheatley
HAIL, happy saint, on thine immortal throne, Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown; We hear no more the music of thy tongue, Thy wonted auditories cease to throng. Thy sermons in unequall’d accents flow’d, And ev’ry bosom with devotion glow’d; Thou didst in strains of eloquence refin’d Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind. […]
On The Death Of J. C. An Infant by Phillis Wheatley
NO more the flow’ry scenes of pleasure rife, Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes, No more with joy we view that lovely face Smiling, disportive, flush’d with ev’ry grace. The tear of sorrow flows from ev’ry eye, Groans answer groans, and sighs to sighs reply; What sudden pangs shot thro’ each aching heart, When, […]
On The Death Of Dr. Samuel Marshall by Phillis Wheatley
THROUGH thickest glooms look back, immortal shade, On that confusion which thy death has made: Or from Olympus’ height look down, and see A Town involv’d in grief bereft of thee. Thy Lucy sees thee mingle with the dead, And rends the graceful tresses from her head, Wild in her woe, with grief unknown opprest […]
On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age by Phillis Wheatley
FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light Th’ enraptur’d innocent has wing’d her flight; On the kind bosom of eternal love She finds unknown beatitude above. This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore, She feels the iron hand of pain no more; The dispensations of unerring grace, Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise; […]