The Nympholept

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

There was a boy — not above childish fears —

With steps that faltered now and straining ears,

Timid, irresolute, yet dauntless still,

Who one bright dawn, when each remotest hill

Stood sharp and clear in Heaven’s unclouded blue

And all Earth shimmered with fresh-beaded dew,

Risen in the first beams of the gladdening sun,

Walked up into the mountains. One by one

Each towering trunk beneath his sturdy stride

Fell back, and ever wider and more wide

The boundless prospect opened. Long he strayed,

From dawn till the last trace of slanting shade

Had vanished from the canyons, and, dismayed

At that far length to which his path had led,

He paused — at such a height where overhead

The clouds hung close, the air came thin and chill,

And all was hushed and calm and very still,

Save, from abysmal gorges, where the sound

Of tumbling waters rose, and all around

The pines, by those keen upper currents blown,

Muttered in multitudinous monotone.

Here, with the wind in lovely locks laid bare,

With arms oft raised in dedicative prayer,

Lost in mute rapture and adoring wonder,

He stood, till the far noise of noontide thunder,

Rolled down upon the muffled harmonies

Of wind and waterfall and whispering trees,

Made loneliness more lone. Some Panic fear

Would seize him then, as they who seemed to hear

In Tracian valleys or Thessalian woods

The god’s hallooing wake the leafy solitudes;

I think it was the same: some piercing sense

Of Deity’s pervasive immanence,

The Life that visible Nature doth indwell

Grown great and near and all but palpable . . .

He might not linger, but with winged strides

Like one pursued, fled down the mountain-sides —

Down the long ridge that edged the steep ravine,

By glade and flowery lawn and upland green,

And never paused nor felt assured again

But where the grassy foothills opened. Then,

While shadows lengthened on the plain below

And the sun vanished and the sunset-glow

Looked back upon the world with fervid eye

Through the barred windows of the western sky,

Homeward he fared, while many a look behind

Showed the receding ranges dim-outlined,

Highland and hollow where his path had lain,

Veiled in deep purple of the mountain rain.

Poetry Monster – Home

A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Epilogue poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Envoi poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• E.P. Ode Pour L’election De Son Sepulchre poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Dance Figure poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Cino poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Canto XLIX poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Canto XIII poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Canto I poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Cantico del Sole poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Before Sleep poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Ballad of the Goodly Fere poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Ballad for Gloom poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• And the days are not full enough poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Ancient Music poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• An Immorality poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• Alba poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• A Virginal poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• A Pact poem – Ezra Pound poems by Ezra Pound
• A Girl by Ezra Pound by Ezra Pound
• John Milton As Author of Pornographic Verse: An Extempore Upon a Faggot by Fledermaus

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

Parallel Translations of Poetry

Poems by Author and Category

The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works