Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

FROM THE SPANISH OF LUIS PONCE DE LEON.


Region of life and light!
Land of the good whose earthly toils are o'er!
Nor frost nor heat may blight
Thy vernal beauty, fertile shore,
Yielding thy blessed fruits for evermore!

There without crook or sling,
Walks the good shepherd; blossoms white and red
Round his meek temples cling;
And to sweet pastures led,
His own loved flock beneath his eye is fed.

He guides, and near him they
Follow delighted, for he makes them go
Where dwells eternal May,
And heavenly roses blow,
Deathless, and gathered but again to grow.

He leads them to the height
Named of the infinite and long-sought Good,
And fountains of delight;
And where his feet have stood
Springs up, along the way, their tender food.

And when, in the mid skies,
The climbing sun has reached his highest bound,
Reposing as he lies,

...

I opened wide the bath-room door,
And all at once switched on the light,
When moving swift across the floor
I saw a streak of ebon bright:
Then quick, with slipper in my hand,
Before it could escape,--I slammed.
I missed it once, I missed it twice,
But got it ere it gained its lair.
I fear my words were far from nice,
Though d----s with me are rather rare:

...

Go tell the leaders pacing polished floors,
Who track the profit in a sudden fall;
A rough, storm-battered hull has hit the reef,
Answering the heavy, final call.
…
That line may not been steady on the wave;
It slipped the course and left its share of stains;
Yet some grand acts outshine the grey mistakes,
When measured by the wreckage that remains.
…

...

I would more natures were like thine,
That never casts a glance before,
Thou Hebe, who thy heart's bright wine
So lavishly to all dost pour,
That we who drink forget to pine,
And can but dream of bliss in store.

Thou canst not see a shade in life;
With sunward instinct thou dost rise,
And, leaving clouds below at strife,
Gazest undazzled at the skies,
With all their blazing splendors rife,
A songful lark with eagle's eyes.

Thou wast some foundling whom the Hours
Nursed, laughing, with the milk of Mirth;
Some influence more gay than ours
Hath ruled thy nature from its birth,
As if thy natal stars were flowers
That shook their seeds round thee on earth.

And thou, to lull thine infant rest,
Wast cradled like an Indian child;
All pleasant winds from south and west
With lullabies thine ears beguiled,
Rocking thee in thine oriole's nest,
Till Nature looked at thee and smiled.

Thine every fancy seems to borrow
A sunlight from thy childish years,

...

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals all up in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

...

I'm carrying storm behind my teeth,
Swallowing thunder so no one leaves.
Afraid that words are borrowed things,
That if I speak, the room will take wings.

So I write in my wrist in a language only pain can read,
Not to end, but to prove I'm here,
A map of "don't go" etched quite and red
Because "I'm hurting " got stuck somewhere in my head.


...

From my window I can see,

Where the sandhills dip,

One far glimpse of open sea.

Just a slender slip

Curving like a crescent moon—

Yet a greater prize

Than the harbour garden-fair

Spread beneath my eyes.



Just below me swings the bay,

Sings a sunny tune,

But my heart is far away

Out beyond the dune;

Clearer far the sea-gulls’ cry

And the breakers’ roar,


...

Fit the First
THE LANDING

'Just the place for a Snark!' the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

'Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.

...

Are you leading off the final bend
Are you at the front of every trend
Are you every girl and every boy
Are you melody or just white noise

Are you on the brink of Everest
Do you ever know what you'll do next
Is the sand of time at your command
Have you got the whole world in your hand


...