Louis Untermeyer Poems
|1.||Ivory And Rose||4/16/2010|
|3.||Only Of Thee And Me||4/16/2010|
|4.||The Victory Of The Beet-Fields||4/16/2010|
|7.||The Dark Chamber||4/16/2010|
|14.||End Of The Comedy||4/16/2010|
|17.||On The Birth Of A Child||4/16/2010|
|21.||A Side Street||4/16/2010|
|23.||How Much Of Godhood||1/4/2003|
|26.||Questions At Night||4/16/2010|
|28.||Prayer For This House||4/16/2010|
|30.||Portrait Of A Machine||4/16/2010|
Comments about Louis Untermeyer
You have not conquered me—it is the surge
Of love itself that beats against my will;
It is the sting of conflict, the old urge
That calls me still.
It is not you I love—it is the form
And shadow of all lovers who have died
That gives you all the freshness of a warm
And unfamiliar bride.
It is your name I breathe, your hands I seek;
It will be you when you are gone.
And yet the dream, the name I never speak,
Is that that lures me on.
It is the golden summons, the bright wave
Of banners calling me anew;
It is all beauty, ...
How Much Of Godhood
How much of Godhood did it take --
What purging epochs had to pass,
Ere I was fit for leaf and lake
And worthy of the patient grass?
What mighty travails must have been,
What ages must have moulded me,
Ere I was raised and made akin
To dawn, the daisy and the sea.