Love poems
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The Ungrateful Garden
© Carolyn Kizer
Midas watched the golden crust
That formed over his steaming sores,
Hugged his agues, loved his lust,
But damned to hell the out-of-doors
The Intruder
© Carolyn Kizer
My mother-- preferring the strange to the tame:
Dove-note, bone marrow, deer dung,
Frog's belly distended with finny young,
Leaf-mould wilderness, hare-bell, toadstool,
Fearful Women
© Carolyn Kizer
Arms and the girl I sing - O rare
arms that are braceleted and white and barearms that were lovely Helen's, in whose name
Greek slaughtered Trojan. Helen was to blame.Scape-nanny call her; wars for turf
and profit don't sound glamorous enough.Mythologize your women! None escape.
Days of 1986
© Carolyn Kizer
He was believed by his peers to be an important poet,
But his erotic obsession, condemned and strictly forbidden,
Compromised his standing, and led to his ruin.
For a Naughty Little Girl
© Ann Taylor
My sweet little girl should be cheerful and mild
She must not be fretful and cry!
Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child,
GOD sees you, who lives in the sky.
St. Winefred's Well
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
ACT I. SC. IEnter Teryth from riding, Winefred following.T. WHAT is it, Gwen, my girl? why do you hover and haunt me? W. You came by Caerwys, sir?
T. I came by Caerwys.
W. There
Some messenger there might have met you from my uncle.
Epithalamion
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
By there comes a listless stranger: beckoned by the noise
He drops towards the river: unseen
Sees the bevy of them, how the boys
With dare and with downdolphinry and bellbright bodies huddling out,
Are earthworld, airworld, waterworld thorough hurled, all by turn and turn about.
The Woodlark
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
Teevo cheevo cheevio chee:
O where, what can th?at be?
Weedio-weedio: there again!
So tiny a trickle of s?ng-strain;
Ribblesdale
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
And what is Earth's eye, tongue, or heart else, where
Else, but in dear and dogged man?Ah, the heir
To his own selfbent so bound, so tied to his turn,
To thriftless reave both our rich round world bare
And none reck of world after, this bids wear
Earth brows of such care, care and dear concern.
What Shall I Do For the Land that Bred Me
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
What shall I do for the land that bred me,
Her homes and fields that folded and fed me?
Be under her banner and live for her honour:
Under her banner Ill live for her honour.
CHORUS. Under her banner live for her honour.
Let me be to Thee as the circling bird
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
The authentic cadence was discovered late
Which ends those only strains that I approve,
And other science all gone out of date
And minor sweetness scarce made mention of:
I have found the dominant of my range and state -
Love, O my God, to call Thee Love and Love.
My prayers must meet a brazen heaven
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
My prayers must meet a brazen heaven
And fail and scatter all away.
Unclean and seeming unforgiven
My prayers I scarcely call to pray.
To Him Who Ever Thought with Love of Me
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
To him who ever thought with love of me
Or ever did for my sake some good deed
I will appear, looking such charity
And kind compassion, at his lifes last need
That he will out of hand and heartily
Repent he sinned and all his sins be freed.
The Alchemist in the City
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
My window shews the travelling clouds,
Leaves spent, new seasons, alter'd sky,
The making and the melting crowds:
The whole world passes; I stand by.
Henry Purcell
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
The poet wishes well to the divine genius of Purcell
and praises him that, whereas other musicians have
given utterance to the moods of man's mind, he has,
beyond that, uttered in notes the very make and
species of man as created both in him and in all men
generally.
To What Serves Mortal Beauty?
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
To what serves mortal beauty 'dangerous; does set danc-
ing bloodthe O-seal-that-so ' feature, flung prouder form
Than Purcell tune lets tread to? ' See: it does this: keeps warm
Men's wits to the things that are; ' what good meanswhere a glance
To Seem The Stranger Lies My Lot, My Life
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
I am in Ireland now; now I am at a thírd
Remove. Not but in all removes I can
Kind love both give and get. Only what word
Wisest my heart breeds dark heaven's baffling ban
Bars or hell's spell thwarts. This to hoard unheard,
Heard unheeded, leaves me a lonely began.
Love Preparing to Fly
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
He play'd his wings as tho' for flight;
They webb'd the sky with glassy light.
His body sway'd upon tiptoes,
Like a wind-perplexed rose;
In eddies of the wind he went
At last up the blue element.
In The Valley Of The Elwy
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
I remember a house where all were good
To me, God knows, deserving no such thing:
Comforting smell breathed at very entering,
Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood.
Hope Holds to Christ
© Gerard Manley Hopkins
. . . . . . . .
Hope holds to Christ the minds own mirror out
To take His lovely likeness more and more.
It will not well, so she would bring about
