Poetry
At Melville’s Tomb Often beneath the wave, wide from this ledge The dice of drowned men’s bones he saw bequeath An embassy. Their numbers as he watched, Beat on the dusty shore and were obscured. …
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc’d by fate, And haughty Juno’s unrelenting hate, Expell’d and exil’d, left the Trojan shore. Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore, And in the doubtful …
Ave Maria Gratia Plena Was this His coming! I had hoped to see A scene of wondrous glory, as was told Of some great God who in a rain of gold Broke open bars and …
After a picture by Jamie Wyeth After arriving on Monhegan Island in spring 1906, Rockwell Kent bought a lot on Horn’s Hill overlooking the village and began to build himself a house, which he finished …
The Faith of Children Two boys. A hot, unmoving sun. No fish. Stepping unwatched and solemn into the river— Slow, muddy water, quickly to their waists— The boys wade out like pilgrims toward an island, …
Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare. Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace, And lay them prone upon the earth and cease To ponder on …
Sonnet 130 My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires …
After a picture by Jamie Wyeth February—(Februarius (mensis), (month) of purification februa>, expiatory offerings, poss. of Sabine orig.) —The American Heritage College Dictionary I In this trim girth of days came Valentine, A lover of …
A Legend of Truth Once on a time, the ancient legends tell, Truth, rising from the bottom of her well, Looked on the world, but, hearing how it lied, Returned to her seclusion horrified. There …
In Tenebris All within is warm, Here without it’s very cold, Now the year is grown so old And the dead leaves swarm. In your heart is light, Here without it’s very dark, When shall …
Child’s Play “Back in the day, . . . almost every boy would come to school . . . with . . . marbles (small colorful glass orbs about three-quarters of an inch in diameter).” …
The Passing of the Year My glass is filled, my pipe is lit, My den is all a cosy glow; And snug before the fire I sit, And wait to feel the old year go. …
For Cecilia It’s a party like any other We’ve ever been wallpapered and rugged Into — the food and drink disarrayed, the bother And mess left behind in the hosts’ kitchen For tomorrow and tomorrow …
The Lights on Rt. 10 Highway left behind, along the town’s rutted arm. Off ahead lights are piled, like painted covers of Long Island. Lens-flared traffic, hiking the rain home. I stand out in the …
To Mrs. —. WHERE are those hours, on rosy pinions borne, Which brought to every guiltless with success? When Pleasure gladden’d each returning morn, And every evening clos’d in calms of peace. How smil’d each …
To Lucasta, Going to the Wars Tell me not (Sweet) I am unkind, That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now …