The Rendezvous

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.

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 

• Hail, Zaragoza! If With Unwet eye by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Hail, Twilight, Sovereign Of One Peaceful Hour by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Guilt And Sorrow, Or, Incidents Upon Salisbury Plain by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Great Men Have Been Among Us by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Goody Blake And Harry Gill by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Gipsies by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• George and Sarah Green by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• From The Italian Of Michael Angelo by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• From The Dark Chambers Of Dejection Freed by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• From The Cuckoo And The Nightingale by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Foresight by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Fidelity by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Feelings Of The Tyrolese by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Feelings Of A Noble Biscayan At One Of Those Funerals by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Feelings of A French Royalist, On The Disinterment Of The Remains Of The Duke D’Enghien by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Extempore Effusion upon the Death of James Hogg by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Expostulation and Reply by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Even As A Dragon’s Eye That Feels The Stress by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Epitaphs Translated From Chiabrera by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth

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