Poems List

The Dramatists

The Dramatists

A string of shiny days we had,
A spotless sky, a yellow sun;
And neither you nor I was sad

When that was through and done.

But when, one day, a boy comes by
And pleads me with your happiest vow,
"There was a lad I knew--" I'll sigh,
"I do not know him now."

And when another girl shall pass
And speak a little name I said,
Then you will say, "There was a lassI
wonder is she dead."

And each of us will sigh, and start
A-talking of a faded year,
And lay a hand above a heart,
And dry a pretty tear.
👁️ 354

The Danger Of Writing Defiant Verse

The Danger Of Writing Defiant Verse

And now I have another lad!
No longer need you tell

How all my nights are slow and sad
For loving you too well.

His ways are not your wicked ways,
He's not the like of you.

He treads his path of reckoned days,
A sober man, and true.

They'll never see him in the town,
Another on his knee.

He'd cut his laden orchards down,
If that would pleasure me.

He'd give his blood to paint my lips
If I should wish them red.

He prays to touch my finger-tips
Or stroke my prideful head.

He never weaves a glinting lie,
Or brags the hearts he'll keep.

I have forgotten how to sighRemembered
how to sleep.

He's none to kiss away my mindA
slower way is his.

Oh, Lord! On reading this, I find
A silly lot he is.
👁️ 345

The Burned Child

The Burned Child

Love has had his way with me.
This my heart is torn and maimed

Since he took his play with me.
Cruel well the bow-boy aimed,

Shot, and saw the feathered shaft
Dripping bright and bitter red.

He that shrugged his wings and laughedBetter
had he left me dead.

Sweet, why do you plead me, then,
Who have bled so sore of that?

Could I bear it once again? . . .
Drop a hat, dear, drop a hat!
👁️ 329

Testament

Testament


Oh, let it be a night of lyric rain
And singing breezes, when my bell is tolled.
I have so loved the rain that I would hold
Last in my ears its friendly, dim refraln.
I shall lie cool and quiet, who have lain
Fevered, and watched the book of day unfold.
Death will not see me flinch; the heart is bold
That pain has made incapable of pain.


Kinder the busy worms than ever love;
It will be peace to lie there, empty-eyed,
My bed made secret by the leveling showers,
My breast replenishing the weeds above.
And you will say of me, "Then has she died?
Perhaps I should have sent a spray of flowers."
👁️ 342

Symptom Recital

Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men....
I'm due to fall in love again.
👁️ 486

Surprise

Surprise


My heart went fluttering with fear
Lest you should go, and leave me here
To beat my breast and rock my head
And stretch me sleepless on my bed.
Ah, clear they see and true they say
That one shall weep, and one shall stray
For such is Love's unvarying law....
I never thought, I never saw
That I should be the first to go;
How pleasant that it happened so!
👁️ 322

Summary

Summary


Every love's the love before
In a duller dress.

That's the measure of my loreHere's
my bitterness:

Would I knew a little more,
Or very much less!
👁️ 302

Story

Story


"And if he's gone away," said she,
"Good riddance, if you're asking me.
I'm not a one to lie awake
And weep for anybody's sake.
There's better lads than him about!
I'll wear my buckled slippers out
A-dancing till the break of day.
I'm better off with him away!
And if he never come," said she,
"Now what on earth is that to me?
I wouldn't have him back!"


I hope
Her mother washed her mouth with soap.
👁️ 369

Sonnet For The End Of A Sequence

Sonnet For The End Of A Sequence

So take my vows and scatter them to sea;
Who swears the sweetest is no more than human.
And say no kinder words than these of me:
"Ever she longed for peace, but was a woman!
And thus they are, whose silly female dust
Needs little enough to clutter it and bind it,
Who meet a slanted gaze, and ever must
Go build themselves a soul to dwell behind it."


For now I am my own again, my friend!
This scar but points the whiteness of my breast;
This frenzy, like its betters, spins an end,
And now I am my own. And that is best.
Therefore, I am immeasurably grateful
To you, for proving shallow, false, and hateful.
👁️ 323

Song Of One Of The Girls

Song Of One Of The Girls

Here in my heart I am Helen;
I'm Aspasia and Hero, at least.
I'm Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael;
I'm Salome, moon of the East.

Here in my soul I am Sappho;
Lady Hamilton am I, as well.
In me Recamier vies with Kitty O'Shea,
With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell.

I'm of the glamorous ladies
At whose beckoning history shook.
But you are a man, and see only my pan,
So I stay at home with a book.
👁️ 289

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