Louise Bogan Poems
|2.||To Be Sung On The Water||10/24/2013|
|3.||Statue And Birds||4/15/2010|
|4.||Words For Departure||1/13/2003|
|7.||Chanson Un Peu Naïve||1/13/2003|
|8.||Solitary Observation Brought Back From A Sojourn In Hell||1/3/2003|
|14.||The Frightened Man||1/13/2003|
|15.||Epitaph For A Romantic Woman||1/3/2003|
|19.||Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom||1/3/2003|
|21.||Song For The Last Act||1/13/2003|
|22.||Tears In Sleep||1/3/2003|
|24.||Last Hill In A Vista||1/3/2003|
|25.||To A Dead Lover||4/15/2010|
|26.||The Crossed Apple||1/3/2003|
O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,
Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane,
And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose.
Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground
When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein.
Another woman, as I lay half in a swound
Leapt in the air, and clutched at the leather and chain.
Give him, she said, something of yours as a charm.
Throw him, she said, some poor thing you alone claim.
No, no, I cried, he hates me; ...
Last Hill In A Vista
Come, let us tell the weeds in ditches
How we are poor, who once had riches,
And lie out in the sparse and sodden
Pastures that the cows have trodden,
The while an autumn night seals down
The comforts of the wooden town.
Come, let us counsel some cold stranger
How we sought safety, but loved danger.