A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)
He faints with hope and fear. It is the hour.
Distant, across the thundering organ-swell,
In sweet discord from the cathedral-tower,
Fall the faint chimes and the thrice-sequent bell.
Over the crowd his eye uneasy roves.
He sees a plume, a fur; his heart dilates —
Soars . . . and then sinks again. It is not hers he loves.
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
Braided with streams of silver incense rise
The antique prayers and ponderous antiphones.
`Gloria Patri’ echoes to the skies;
`Nunc et in saecula’ the choir intones.
He marks not the monotonous refrain,
The priest that serves nor him that celebrates,
But ever scans the aisle for his blonde head. . . . In vain!
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
How like a flower seemed the perfumed place
Where the sweet flesh lay loveliest to kiss;
And her white hands in what delicious ways,
With what unfeigned caresses, answered his!
Each tender charm intolerable to lose,
Each happy scene his fancy recreates.
And he calls out her name and spreads his arms . . . No use!
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
But the long vespers close. The priest on high
Raises the thing that Christ’s own flesh enforms;
And down the Gothic nave the crowd flows by
And through the portal’s carven entry swarms.
Maddened he peers upon each passing face
Till the long drab procession terminates.
No princess passes out with proud majestic pace.
She has not come, the woman that he waits.
Back in the empty silent church alone
He walks with aching heart. A white-robed boy
Puts out the altar-candles one by one,
Even as by inches darkens all his joy.
He dreams of the sweet night their lips first met,
And groans — and turns to leave — and hesitates . . .
Poor stricken heart, he will, he can not fancy yet
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
But in an arch where deepest shadows fall
He sits and studies the old, storied panes,
And the calm crucifix that from the wall
Looks on a world that quavers and complains.
Hopeless, abandoned, desolate, aghast,
On modes of violent death he meditates.
And the tower-clock tolls five, and he admits at last,
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
Through the stained rose the winter daylight dies,
And all the tide of anguish unrepressed
Swells in his throat and gathers in his eyes;
He kneels and bows his head upon his breast,
And feigns a prayer to hide his burning tears,
While the satanic voice reiterates
`Tonight, tomorrow, nay, nor all the impending years,
She will not come,’ the woman that he waits.
Fond, fervent heart of life’s enamored spring,
So true, so confident, so passing fair,
That thought of Love as some sweet, tender thing,
And not as war, red tooth and nail laid bare,
How in that hour its innocence was slain,
How from that hour our disillusion dates,
When first we learned thy sense, ironical refrain,
She will not come, the woman that he waits.
A few random poems:
- love by Raj Arumugam
- Jerusalem Delivered – Book 01 – part 06 by Torquato Tasso
- A Requisition to the Queen by William Topaz McGonagall
- The Sheep and the Bush by William Somervile
- Poems On Beauty by Rabindranath Tagore
- Manipulation by Radames Antonio Cruz
- In The Bazaars of Hyderabad by Sarojini Naidu
- English Poetry. Mary Wortley Montagu. Epigram, 1734. Мэри Уортли Монтегю.
- Colonus’ Praise by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Маяковский – Рассказ о Климе, купившем заем, и Прове, не подумавшем о счастье своем
- Ode to Superstition
- Низами Гянджеви – День мой благословен
- Power Of Love by Valentine Mbagu
- The Happy Days When I Wer Young by William Barnes
- Sonnet CXXXVII by William Shakespeare
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
- Robert Burns: Extempore On Some Commemorations Of Thomson:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Seeing Miss Fontenelle In A Favourite Character:
- Robert Burns: The Rights Of Woman: An Occasional Address. Spoken by Miss Fontenelle on her benefit night, November 26, 1792.
- Robert Burns: Auld Rob Morris:
- Robert Burns: Highland Mary:
- Robert Burns: My Wife’s A Winsome Wee Thing:
- Robert Burns: I’ll Meet Thee On The Lea Rig:
- Robert Burns: Fragment Of Song:
- Robert Burns: Saw Ye Bonie Lesley:
- Robert Burns: Love For Love:
- Robert Burns: Bessy And Her Spinnin’ Wheel:
- Robert Burns: The Country Lass:
- Robert Burns: The Deil’s Awa Wi’ The Exciseman:
- Robert Burns: The Deuks Dang O’er My Daddie:
- Robert Burns: O Can Ye Labour Lea?:
- Robert Burns: The Slave’s Lament:
- Robert Burns: Kellyburn Braes:
- Robert Burns: Lady Mary Ann:
- Robert Burns: Sic A Wife As Willie Had:
- Robert Burns: My Collier Laddie:
More external links (open in a new tab):
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Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alan Seeger (1888-1916) was an American war poet who fought and died in World War I during the Battle of the Somme, serving in the French Foreign Legion. Seeger was the brother of Charles Seeger, a noted American pacifist and musicologist and the uncle of folk musician, Pete Seeger.