Fear poems
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Turns And Movies: Rose And Murray
© Conrad Aiken
After the movie, when the lights come up,
He takes her powdered hand behind the wings;
She, all in yellow, like a buttercup,
Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings;
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 06: Cinema
© Conrad Aiken
The music ends. The screen grows dark. We hurry
To go our devious secret ways, forgetting
Those many lives . . . We loved, we laughed, we killed,
We danced in fire, we drowned in a whirl of sea-waves.
The flutes are stilled, and a thousand dreams are stilled.
The Banks Of Wye - Book I
© Robert Bloomfield
No butler's proxies snore supine,
Where the old monarch kept his wine;
No Welch ox roasting, horns and all,
Adorns his throng'd and laughing hall;
But where he pray'd, and told his beads,
A thriving ash luxuriant spreads.
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 03: Palimpsest: A Deceitful Portrait
© Conrad Aiken
Or 'one day dies eventless as another,
Leaving the seeker still unsatisfied,
And more convinced life yields no satisfaction'?
Or 'seek too hard, the sight at length grows callous,
And beauty shines in vain'?
Sixth Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
There are, who darkling and alone,
Would wish the weary night were gone,
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches' Sabbath
© Conrad Aiken
The walls and roofs, the scarlet towers,
Sank down behind a rushing sky.
He heard a sweet song just begun
Abruptly shatter in tones and die.
It whirled away. Cold silence fell.
And again came tollings of a bell.
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 01: The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea
© Conrad Aiken
The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea.
The walls and towers are warmed and gleam.
Sounds go drowsily up from streets and wharves.
The city stirs like one that is half in dream.
Breitmann In Forty-Eight
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DERE woned once a studente,
All in der Stadt Paris,
Whom jeder der ihn kennte,
Der rowdy Breitmann hiess.
The House Of Dust: Complete (Long)
© Conrad Aiken
. . . Parts of this poem have been printed in "The North American
Review, Others, Poetry, Youth, Coterie, The Yale Review". . . . I am
indebted to Lafcadio Hearn for the episode called "The Screen Maiden"
in Part II.
The Deserted Palace
© Robert Laurence Binyon
``My feet are dead, the cold rain beats my face!''
``Courage, sweet love, this tempest is our friend!''
``Yet oh, shall we not rest a little space?
This city sleeps; some corner may defend
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude II.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Well pleased all listened to the tale,
That drew, the Student said, its pith
A Fit of Rhyme against Rhyme
© Benjamin Jonson
Rhyme, the rack of finest wits,
That expresseth but by fits
Marri'd
© Dame Mary Gilmore
ITS singin in an out,
An feelin full of grace;
Here n there, up an down,
An round about th place.
The Enthusiast, or the Lover of Nature
© Joseph Warton
Ye green-rob'd Dryads, oft' at dusky Eve
By wondering Shepherds seen, to Forests brown,
To A Star
© Frances Anne Kemble
Thou little star, that in the purple clouds
Hang'st, like a dewdrop, in a violet bed;
An Answer
© George Frederick Cameron
So, say:It must be good to die, my friend!
It must be good and more than good, I deem;
'Tis all the replication I may send
For deeper swimming seek a deeper stream.
The Pleasures of Melancholy
© Thomas Warton
Mother of musings, Contemplation sage,
Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock
Of Teneriffe; 'mid the tempestuous night,
On which, in calmest meditation held,
