Great poems
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Turns And Movies: Dancing Adairs
© Conrad Aiken
Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze, and tinsel,
Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight,
And into the shadow again, without a whisper!
Firefly's my name, I am evanescent.
The Room
© Conrad Aiken
Through that windowall else being extinct
Except itself and meI saw the struggle
Of darkness against darkness. Within the room
It turned and turned, dived downward. Then I saw
The Valley Of Dunloe
© William Percy French
Have the faries all departed
And left me broken-hearted,
To mourn the little creatures we loved so long ago?
Ah! most of them have vanished
But there's one that isn't banished
For I met her as I wandered in the Valley of Dunloe.
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 05: The Bitter Love-Song
© Conrad Aiken
Sharp shafts of music dazzled my eyes and pierced me.
I ran and turned and spun and danced in the sunlight,
Shrank, sometimes, from the freezing silence of beauty,
Or crept once more to the warm white cave of sleep.
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'?
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 03: 11: Conversation: Undertones
© Conrad Aiken
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai?
You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me;
You smile a little. . . .Outside, the night goes by.
I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees . . .
Your pale hands rest palm downwards on your knees.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10: Letter
© Conrad Aiken
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees
The soft blue starlight through the one small window,
The moon above black trees, and clouds, and Venus,
And turns to write . . . The clock, behind ticks softly.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 09: Cabaret
© Conrad Aiken
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence.
You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing
As other nights when we are dead will pass . . .'
Perhaps I misconstrue you: you mean only,
'How deathly pale my face looks in that glass . . .'
A Hero
© Katharine Tynan
He was so foolish, the poor lad,
He made superior people smile
Who knew not of the wings he had
Budding and growing all the while;
Nor that the laurel wreath was made
Already for his curly head.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 08: Coffins: Interlude
© Conrad Aiken
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower
Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour:
At the deep sudden stroke the pigeons fly . . .
The fine snow flutes the cracks between the flagstones.
We close our coats, and hurry, and search the sky.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain
© Conrad Aiken
Study them . . . you will see there, in the porcelain,
If you stare hard enough, a sort of swimming
Of lights and shadows, ghosts within a crystal
My brain unfolding! There you'll see me sitting
Day after day, close to a certain window,
Looking down, sometimes, to see the people . . .
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 05: Melody In A Restaurant
© Conrad Aiken
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us,
Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes;
You strike a match and stare upon the flame.
The tiny fire leaps in your eyes a moment,
And dwindles away as silently as it came.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 04: Illicit
© Conrad Aiken
She played this tune. And in the middle of it
Abruptly broke it off, letting her hands
Fall in her lap. She sat there so a moment,
With shoulders drooped, then lifted up a rose,
One great white rose, wide opened like a lotos,
And pressed it to her cheek, and closed her eyes.
The Ballad of Jakko Hill
© Rudyard Kipling
One moment bid the horses wait,
Since tiffin is not laid till three,
Below the upward path and straight
You climbed a year ago with me.
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 10: Sudden Death
© Conrad Aiken
'Number fourthe girl who died on the table
The girl with golden hair'
The purpling body lies on the polished marble.
We open the throat, and lay the thyroid bare . . .
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 09: Interlude
© Conrad Aiken
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us,
The hours go silently over our lifted faces,
We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea.
Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together.
We sleep, we wake, we laugh, we pursue, we flee.
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 07: Two Lovers: Overtones
© Conrad Aiken
'One white rose . . . or is it pink, to-day?'
They pause and smile, not caring what they say,
If only they may talk.
The crowd flows past them like dividing waters.
Dreaming they stand, dreaming they walk.
Letter To S.S. From Mametz Wood
© Robert Graves
I never dreamed wed meet that day
In our old haunts down Fricourt way,
