Weather poems
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Hard is the Journey
© Li Po
Gold vessels of fine wines,
thousands a gallon,
Jade dishes of rare meats,
costing more thousands,
Misgivings
© William Matthews
"Perhaps you'll tire of me," muses
my love, although she's like a great city
to me, or a park that finds new
ways to wear each flounce of light
and investiture of weather.
Soil doesn't tire of rain, I think,
On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton
© William Strode
The first day of this month the last hath bin
To that deare soule. March never did come in
So lyonlike as now: our lives are made
As fickle as the weather or the shade.
Contemplations
© Anne Bradstreet
1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide,
2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed,
3 The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride,
4 Were gilded o're by his rich golden head.
Governors On Sominex
© David Berman
P.K. was in the precinct house, using his one phone call
to dedicate a song to Tammy, for she was the light
by which he traveled into this and that
Sarabande On Attaining The Age Of Seventy-Seven
© Anthony Evan Hecht
And I myself have whitened in the weathers
Of heaped-up Januaries as they bequeath
The annual rings and wrongs that wring my withers,
Sober my thoughts, and undermine my teeth.
Witness
© Anthony Evan Hecht
Against the enormous rocks of a rough coast
The ocean rams itself in pitched assault
And spastic rage to which there is no halt;
Foam-white brigades collapse; but the huge host
Ballad Of Low-Lie-Down
© Madison Julius Cawein
John-a-Dreams and Harum-Scarum
Came a-riding into town:
At the Sign o' the Jug-and-Jorum
There they met with Low-lie-down.
Sir Curt's Wedding-journey.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WITH a bridegroom's joyous bearing,Mounts Sir Curt his noble beast,
To his mistress' home repairing,There to hold his wedding feast;
When a threatening foe advancesFrom a desert, rocky spot;
For the fray they couch their lances,Not delaying, speaking not.Long the doubtful fight continues,Victory then for Curt declares;
I Am A Parcel Of Vain Strivings Tied
© Henry David Thoreau
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
Little Boy Blue
© George MacDonald
Little Boy Blue lost his way in a wood-
Sing apples and cherries, roses and honey:
He said, "I would not go back if I could,
It's all so jolly and funny!"
Joy And Sorrow.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
As a fisher-boy I faredTo the black rock in the sea,
And, while false gifts I prepared.Listen'd and sang merrily,
Down descended the decoy,Soon a fish attack'd the bait;
One exultant shout of joy,--And the fish was captured straight.Ah! on shore, and to the woodPast the cliffs, o'er stock and stone,
The Legend Of The Horseshoe.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth,
Unknown, despised, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),
Disillusionment Of Ten O'clock
© Wallace Stevens
The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Lament
© Kathleen Raine
Where are those dazzling hills touched by the sun,
Those crags in childhood that I used to climb?
Hidden, hidden under mist is yonder mountain,
Hidden is the heart.
Ode on Intimations of Immortality
© William Wordsworth
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
