Aquatic Nocturne by Sylvia Plath
deep in liquid turquoise slivers of dilute light quiver in thin streaks of bright tinfoil on mobile jet: pale flounder waver by tilting silver: in the shallows agile minnows flicker gilt: grapeblue mussels dilate lithe and pliant valves: dull lunar globes of blubous jellyfish glow milkgreen: eels twirl in wily spirals on elusive tails: adroir […]
April Aubade by Sylvia Plath
Worship this world of watercolor mood in glass pagodas hung with veils of green where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood and sap ascends the steeple of the vein. A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals to waken dreamers in the milky dawn, while tulips bow like a college of cardinals before that papal paragon, the sun. […]
April 18 by Sylvia Plath
the slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull and if my stomach would contract because of some explicable phenomenon such as pregnancy or constipation I would not remember you or that because of sleep infrequent as a moon of greencheese that because of food nourishing as violet leaves that because […]
Among The Narcissi by Sylvia Plath
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks, Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi. He is recuperating from something on the lung. The narcissi, too, are bowing to some big thing : It rattles their stars on the green hill where Percy Nurses the hardship of his stitches, and walks and walks. […]
Alicante Lullaby by Sylvia Plath
In Alicante they bowl the barrels Bumblingly over the nubs of the cobbles Past the yellow-paella eateries, Below the ramshackle back-alley balconies, While the cocks and hens In the roofgardens Scuttle repose with crowns and cackles. Kumquat-colored trolleys ding as they trundle Passengers under an indigo fizzle Needling spumily down from the wires: Alongside the […]
Aerialist by Sylvia Plath
Aerialist Each night, this adroit young lady Lies among sheets Shredded fine as snowflakes Until dream takes her body From bed to strict tryouts In tightrope acrobatics. Nightly she balances Cat-clever on perilous wire In a gigantic hall, Footing her delicate dances To whipcrack and roar Which speak her maestro’s will. Gilded, coming correct Across […]
Upon a Lady’s Fall Over a Stile, Gotten by Running From Her Love by William Wycherley
My Heart held out, against your Face, and Eyes, But cou’d no more, against your Breech, and Thighs, Which they, both took, and wounded, by Surprize; Who, till then, did (as ’twere,) in Ambush ly, For my poor Life, at least, my Liberty; So secret Enemies, more Mischief do, The less still they, […]
To his Indifferent Mistress by William Wycherley
I. Ah! Dear, proud Charmer, cou’d you prove At once more Cruel, or less Fair, Your Cruelty wou’d speak some Love, In turning Mine to strong Despair; For luke-warm Love, or cold Indifference, Keeps with more Pain my Flame in more Suspence. II. To make me Yours, you still disdain, Yet can’t consent to let […]
The Poor Lover to His Rich Mistress about to Marry His Coxcombly Rival by William Wycherley
He av’n is not gain’d with Wealth, or Bribes, we know, So (Divine Thing!) I nothing bid for you, No Shining Dirt, as my Rich Rivals do; Tho’ Di’monds, Pearl, may purchas’d be with Gold, Your Eyes, Teeth, at a Higher Rate I hold; My Precious, and Inestimable Dear! He who wou’d buy thy Love […]
Sleep and Death by William Wycherley
O Sleep! thou dost thy healing Virtues lend, At once t’instruct our Nature, and befriend. Do’st to our wearied Limbs fresh Strength supply, And giv’st Ideas what ’twill be to die. Brother of Death! In Office how the same! Both lent us to repair our shatter’d Frame; Yet diff’ring here, that Sleep at best can […]
On a Sea Fight, Which the Author was in, Betwixt the English and Dutch by William Wycherley
Pluto himself did tremble in his Hell, Pale Ghosts look’d paler, to hear new Ghosts tell What was in Neptune ‘s Empire done above By Two great Fleets, that for Hell’s Empire strove. Each Side, like Fiends, in Fire and Smoke did fight, And put the Dev’l himself into a Fright; For both dispatch’d to […]
Love and Wine by William Wycherley
In vain I Drunkenness forswore, Because by That made Sick and Blind; Since tho’ I have the Flask giv’n o’er, Love still intoxicates my Mind. If then for either Sottishness, Alike Man’s Sense is in Disguise; No matter which way, sure, it is, By sparkling Wine, or sparkling Eyes. Yet most debauch’d the Lovers shew, […]
In Praise of Laziness by William Wycherley
O God-like State! thou Heav’nly Laziness! Which, in thy Rags, canst thy Professors Bless, Ensure their Innocence, Peace, Ease, or Rest, Ev’n here, with Poverty, to make ’em Blest; Their Faith, and Honour, best dost justifie, Securing their Good Name, and Liberty, From Scandal, Care, Fear, Pain, and Slavery; Blest State on Earth! […]
Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley
I. Let the Dull, Sober, and the Grave, But fit for drudging, Bus’ness have; Let sitting still, my Hand employ, My busie Tongue, not thoughtless Head; Employment, which wou’d Cares destroy, Not such, by which, more still are bred; II. Let all Ambitious Sots flie high, To make their Steps more slippery, Whilst I, with […]
A Consolation to Cuckholds by William Wycherley poems
Injurious, spightful, and ill-judging Town, To cry the Trade of Cuckold-making down! When by it half your Sons to Honours rise, And raise their Fortunes, and their Families: Why then should that be deem’d Disgrace, or Shame, To which so many owe their Wealth and Name And so gain Honour, ev’n in Spight of Fame? […]
What Reward? by Winifred Mary Letts
You gave your life. Boy. And you gave a limb: But he who gave his precious wits, Say, what regard for him? One had his glory, One has found his rest. But what of this poor babbler here With chin sunk on his breast? Flotsam of battle, With brain bemused and dim, O God, for […]
To A Soldier In Hospital by Winifred Mary Letts
Courage came to you with your boyhood’s grace Of ardent life and limb. Each day new dangers steeled you to the test, To ride, to climb, to swim. Your hot blood taught you carelessness of death With every breath. So when you went to play another game You could not but be brave: An Empire’s […]
To A May Baby by Winifred Mary Letts
To come at tulip time how wise! Perhaps you will not now regret The shining gardens, jewel set, Of your first home in Paradise Nor fret Because you might not quite forget. To come at swallow-time how wise! When every bird has built a nest; Now you may fold your wings and rest And watch […]
Tim, An Irish Terrier by Winifred Mary Letts
It’s wonderful dogs they’re breeding now: Small as a flea or large as a cow; But my old lad Tim he’ll never be bet By any dog that he ever met, Come on ‘says he’for I’m not kilt yet! No matter the size of the dog he’ll meet, Tim trails his coat the length o’the […]
The Spires Of Oxford by Winifred Mary Letts
I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against the pearl-gray sky. My heart was with the Oxford men Who went abroad to die. The years go fast in Oxford, The golden years and gay, The hoary Colleges look down On careless boys at play. But when […]
The Kerry Cow by Winifred Mary Letts
IT’S in Connacht or in Munster that yourself might travel wide, And be asking all the herds you’d meet along the countryside, But you’d never meet a one could shew the likes of her till now, Where she’s grazing in a Leinster field my little Kerry cow. If herself went to the cattle fairs she’d […]
The Harbour by Winifred Mary Letts
I think if I lay dying in some land Where Ireland is no more than just a name, My soul would travel back to find that strand From whence it came. I’d see the harbour in the evening light, The old men staring at some distant ship, The fishing boats they fasten left and right […]
The Deserter by Winifred Mary Letts
There was a man, – don’t mind his name, Whom Fear had dogged by night and day. He could not face the German guns And so he turned and ran away. Just that – he turned and ran away, But who can judge him, you or I ? God makes a man of flesh and […]
The Connaught Rangers by Winifred Mary Letts
I SAW the Connaught Rangers when they were passing by, On a spring day, a good day, with gold rifts in the sky. Themselves were marching steadily along the Liffey quay An’ I see the young proud look of them as if it were to-day! The bright lads, the right lads, I have them in […]
The Call To Arms In Our Street by Winifred Mary Letts
There’s a woman sobs her heart out, With her head against the door, For the man that’s called to leave her, – God have pity on the poor! But its beat, drums, beat While the lads march down the street, And its blow, trumpets blow, Keep your tears until they go. There’s a crowd of […]
Synge’s Grave by Winifred Mary Letts
MY grief! that they have laid you in the town Within the moidher of its thousand wheels And busy feet that travel up and down. They had a right to choose a better bed Far off among the hills where silence steals In on the soul with comfort-bringing tread. The curlew would have keened for […]
Screens (In a Hospital) by Winifred Mary Letts
They put the screens around his bed; a crumpled heap I saw him lie, White counterpane and rough dark head, those screens – they showed that he would die. The put the screens about his bed; We might not play the gramophone, And so we played at cards instead And left him dying there alone. […]
Easter Snow by Winifred Mary Letts
My jewel of the world, she sleeps so fast, She will not hear you, Spring wind, if you blow; So let you shake the blossoms of the thorn Till her bed is hidden deep in Easter snow. Bright jewel of my heart, she sleeps at last, O kind earth, wrap her round in your brown […]
Chaplain To The Forces by Winifred Mary Letts
Ambassador of Christ you go Up to the very gates of Hell, Through fog of powder, storm of shell, To speak your Master’s message: “Lo, The Prince of Peace is with you still, His peace be with you, His good-will.” It is not small, your priesthood’s price. To be a man and yet stand by, […]
Casualty by Winifred Mary Letts
John Delaney of the Rifles has been shot. A man we never knew, Does it cloud the day for you That he lies among the dead Moving, hearing, heeding not? No history will hold his humble name. No sculptured stone will tell The traveller where he fell; That he lies among the dead Is the […]
And She is Spoke by Winifred Mary Letts
I’VE heard a half a dozen times Folks call it Reims. That isn’t right, though, so it seems, Perhaps it’s Reims. Poor city ruined now by flames– Can it be Reims?– That once was one of France’s gems- More likely Reims. I’ll get it right sometime, perchance I’m told it’s Reims. ————— The End And […]
A Dog’s Grave by Winifred Mary Letts
He sleeps where he would wish, in easy call, Here in a primrose nook beside the wall. And near the gate, that he may guard us all Even in death, our faithful seneschal. I do not think the courteous Cherubim Will chide him if he waits, nor Seraphim Summon him hence till we may follow […]
Love Sonnet XXV poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
I know no miracle so manifest As that you wrought upon me yesterday, Filling with love my chalice of pure clay From fragrant fountains of your own dear breast. Beaten and sad, with aching eyes I pressed Close unto you, and, as my body lay, Broken with pain and grief, you murmured, “Stay, I am […]
Love Sonnet LIV poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
What have you more than I, who crave you so? Have I not hands and feet and thoughts to tell? All my sweet senses and fine dreams that swell Rich with contentments that the star-winds blow? Yet do I need you everywhere I go, As if you held me in some stinging spell; And nothing […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXXI poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
Beloved, I who shall be mother soon Need mothering myself this tired hour, As heavily the sweet and precious power Weighs on my heart till I am near to swoon. Console me, soothe me, Dearest, with the boon Of your firm strength, and little comforts shower Soft on the drifting doubtings that devour Patience […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXVII poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
O, not alone I weave this miracle Of glowing spirit from my body’s zone. With every moment of the life unknown You feed the glory of a growing cell. All day I think of you, and night must tell Dreams of my dreams unto your heart alone; So, seeing you, I take you, O my […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXIX poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
How strangely lone unto myself I grow, Listening and looking for I know not what; Turning my head with terror cold and hot At wandering whispers of a music low! Familiar pieces of my being flow Far, far away, to thymy hill and plot, While chained to patience in this close-shut spot I sit […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood XXIV poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
How many holy women mothered me And brought me to perfection for this hour, When from my being all the living power Of sweetest woman should at last flow free? Aeons on Aeons on a loving knee Some woman rocked me in her scented bower, Till my soul bloomed an everlasting flower Calling with fragrance […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood XL poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
A miracle of miracles is here. Take off your shoes. This place is holy ground. No man-child ours like that the shepherd found By dreaming Mary when the Star burned clear. Our God has given us a woman, dear, 390ഊWith satin skin her dimpling shoulders round. No pinkest shell with sea-blown bubbles crowned Could match […]
Sonnet Of Motherhood X poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
I walked among the flowers that bend their heads Low to the earth and back again to light, Hearing them prattle of their blue and white— Violet and jasmine in the bordered beds. They whispered them of every wing that weds 388ഊFragrance to fragrance in the dusky night; And, seeing them, I knew another sight, […]