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"athwart" poems
(I) Pale mulberry was the sky, No bird dared to fly! Thus all seemed wrong, But then, you came along Suddenly like summer rain And quelled away my pain. (II) Velvet blue was the sky, No bird dared not to fly! Thus all seemed right, And as pure as a cloud in white, When suddenly like the rainbow, You quelled away thy heavenly glow. (III) Dark grey is the sky, No bird seems to ever fly! Athwart my wild blue yonder Where I, indignantly do ponder Night and day wondering why, We can't give it just one more try. (IV) Pitch black is always the sky, But, faster than any bird I'll fly! Swifter than a scudding cloud Whilst calling upon you so loud, All the way to a strange plain, Just to ever feast about you again. (V) Magenta magic will always be the sky, When once again we'll merilly fly! Then, flowers once again shall bloom, To see you and me as bride and groom By a placid Mulberry Moon on the rise, To kindle our enchanted paradise. ©Kikodinho Alexandros Jumeira, Dubai 1st December 2016
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Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 7:53 AM UTC
NOSTALIGIC WHISPERS
Dark In here In my world Ever since you Slipped out of my sight Out there in the Distance, away With thy Light Light That shone Bright to my Wild blue yonder Like rays of sunshine Parting glowing Clouds on a Sweltering Day Light Which I Will always Crave perdurably Whilst incandescent Stars seldom dost Shine athwart The night Skies.
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
A Waning Love
But why did I **** him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and throb with his cry, And his eyes goggle under his hair, As my fingers sink into the fair White skin of his throat. It was I! I killed him! My God! Don't you hear? I shook him until his red tongue Hung flapping out through the black, queer, Swollen lines of his lips. And I clung With my nails drawing blood, while I flung The loose, heavy body in fear. Fear lest he should still not be dead. I was drunk with the lust of his life. The blood-drops oozed slow from his head And dabbled a chair. And our strife Lasted one reeling second, his knife Lay and winked in the lights overhead. And the waltz from the ballroom I heard, When I called him a low, sneaking cur. And the wail of the violins stirred My brute anger with visions of her. As I throttled his windpipe, the purr Of his breath with the waltz became blurred. I have ridden ten miles through the dark, With that music, an infernal din, Pounding rhythmic inside me. Just Hark! One! Two! Three! And my fingers sink in To his flesh when the violins, thin And straining with passion, grow stark. One! Two! Three! Oh, the horror of sound! While she danced I was crushing his throat. He had tasted the joy of her, wound Round her body, and I heard him gloat On the favour. That instant I smote. One! Two! Three! How the dancers swirl round! He is here in the room, in my arm, His limp body hangs on the spin Of the waltz we are dancing, a swarm Of blood-drops is hemming us in! Round and round! One! Two! Three! And his sin Is red like his tongue lolling warm. One! Two! Three! And the drums are his knell. He is heavy, his feet beat the floor As I drag him about in the swell Of the waltz. With a menacing roar, The trumpets crash in through the door. One! Two! Three! clangs his funeral bell. One! Two! Three! In the chaos of space Rolls the earth to the hideous glee Of death! And so cramped is this place, I stifle and pant. One! Two! Three! Round and round! God! 'Tis he throttles me! He has covered my mouth with his face! And his blood has dripped into my heart! And my heart beats and labours. One! Two! Three! His dead limbs have coiled every part Of my body in tentacles. Through My ears the waltz jangles. Like glue His dead body holds me athwart. One! Two! Three! Give me air! Oh! My God! One! Two! Three! I am drowning in slime! One! Two! Three! And his corpse, like a clod, Beats me into a jelly! The chime, One! Two! Three! And his dead legs keep time. Air! Give me air! Air! My God!
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4.6k
After Hearing A Waltz By Bartok
But why did I **** him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and throb with his cry, And his eyes goggle under his hair, As my fingers sink into the fair White skin of his throat. It was I! I killed him! My God! Don't you hear? I shook him until his red tongue Hung flapping out through the black, queer, Swollen lines of his lips. And I clung With my nails drawing blood, while I flung The loose, heavy body in fear. Fear lest he should still not be dead. I was drunk with the lust of his life. The blood-drops oozed slow from his head And dabbled a chair. And our strife Lasted one reeling second, his knife Lay and winked in the lights overhead. And the waltz from the ballroom I heard, When I called him a low, sneaking cur. And the wail of the violins stirred My brute anger with visions of her. As I throttled his windpipe, the purr Of his breath with the waltz became blurred. I have ridden ten miles through the dark, With that music, an infernal din, Pounding rhythmic inside me. Just Hark! One! Two! Three! And my fingers sink in To his flesh when the violins, thin And straining with passion, grow stark. One! Two! Three! Oh, the horror of sound! While she danced I was crushing his throat. He had tasted the joy of her, wound Round her body, and I heard him gloat On the favour. That instant I smote. One! Two! Three! How the dancers swirl round! He is here in the room, in my arm, His limp body hangs on the spin Of the waltz we are dancing, a swarm Of blood-drops is hemming us in! Round and round! One! Two! Three! And his sin Is red like his tongue lolling warm. One! Two! Three! And the drums are his knell. He is heavy, his feet beat the floor As I drag him about in the swell Of the waltz. With a menacing roar, The trumpets crash in through the door. One! Two! Three! clangs his funeral bell. One! Two! Three! In the chaos of space Rolls the earth to the hideous glee Of death! And so cramped is this place, I stifle and pant. One! Two! Three! Round and round! God! 'Tis he throttles me! He has covered my mouth with his face! And his blood has dripped into my heart! And my heart beats and labours. One! Two! Three! His dead limbs have coiled every part Of my body in tentacles. Through My ears the waltz jangles. Like glue His dead body holds me athwart. One! Two! Three! Give me air! Oh! My God! One! Two! Three! I am drowning in slime! One! Two! Three! And his corpse, like a clod, Beats me into a jelly! The chime, One! Two! Three! And his dead legs keep time. Air! Give me air! Air! My God!
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66
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight ’twould win me That with music loud and long I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed And drunk the milk of Paradise.
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3.4k
Kubla Khan
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round: And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight ’twould win me That with music loud and long I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome! those caves of ice! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware! Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed And drunk the milk of Paradise.
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54
Mariana in the Moated Grange by Alfred, Lord Tennyson With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, He will not come," she said; She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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Mariana in the Moated Grange
Mariana in the Moated Grange by Alfred, Lord Tennyson With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, He will not come," she said; She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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86
A Lone Walker nowe Ah! Intae Theis Murky Naycht ‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’, Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’, Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr, Unfathomable, Unearthly, Verra Guid Fyre wearin’, Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine Awa, awa, IT owre spilled! Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’, An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr, Near-hand ay flashin’, Rumblin’, guid tremblin’, Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’, An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo! O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid! Great Rowth ragin’! Human nae, nae IT laanger! Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror, Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger! Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och! Stylle haiwin', An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued, Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest! Athwart ma Solitarye Gait Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’, An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT! O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah! Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT! Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’, An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht, Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah! Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre Thro’ nae croud strollin’, Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun! Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine! Thus Thwndir-Taukin’: NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
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Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 6:54 AM UTC
Lone Walker
A Lone Walker nowe Ah! Intae Theis Murky Naycht ‘Yont Whin-Rock menacin’, Ewry Wound bygane an’ the Scar Freish Bluid o’ mine fuelin’, Lang, lang, IT! the Blacklyn Howr, Unfathomable, Unearthly, Verra Guid Fyre wearin’, Burnan Hye! Gore o’ mine Awa, awa, IT owre spilled! Soil o’ Alabaster gravin’, An’ abön, Great Orrah! a Presence yirr, Near-hand ay flashin’, Rumblin’, guid tremblin’, Lyke a Rhodium-Demon Hyear Unco! stick-an-stowe towerin’, An’ a Mirror-Vision ay broo! O’ Red Gore fuil an’ pruid! Great Rowth ragin’! Human nae, nae IT laanger! Heyne intae Theis Skye-Mirror, Image o’ mine! nae, nae IT laanger! Ma Rubye Brooch Micht, och! Stylle haiwin', An' wae Veins o’ Deep Lowe imbued, Ma ain stylle! Glamis’ Orrah! Dearest! Athwart ma Solitarye Gait Ays a Storm-Blast fallin’, An’ wnto me! wnto me noo, IT! O’er an’ o’er! Carham’s Scyld-Hel Orrah! Stylle Theis Dangerus! Verra Dangerus, IT! Highlan’ Thwndir-Rode o’ mine Intae Theis Guid Kintra whooshin’, An’ the nae ****** Cauld Landis Micht, Swaird-Wounded, stylle Ironclad Ah! Fore’er unco! wi’in Oun Hye Fyre Thro’ nae croud strollin’, Ays yf frae Hye Þunor His-sel The Lone War-Whisper Weel-Gaun! Wae Thae Verra Woirds o’ Battle-Angyr Lewdlie! Theis Specular Bluish Fyre o’ mine! Thus Thwndir-Taukin’: NUNC IN HOC SIGNO VINCES QUIA FOCUS TEMPESTATIS MODO EST TIBI ET VEXILLA FULMINIS PRODEUNT UNIVERSI IN FERRO CAERULEO SANGUINEQUE AD TE PICTORUM NOCTE TETRA ET IN SPECULO RESULTANTE FORMA THOR GOTHORUM UBI DESCENDET LAETO AB ULTIMA GLITNIR MAGNO MALLEO DEUS FLAVUS QUI ALTO FERRO SECURIQUE TONITRUO INDIGNAM VIAM MALEDIXIT FULMINIS IGITUR TETRA UMBRA TUA ALTA FLAMMA CALIGINEA VEXILLAQUE SUPREMO IGNE OVERMAN ULTOR.
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55
Alice and I were fudged fruiting inside Falstaffian freakish fleur–de–lys: She inside a quack–aztec–tattooed tank, Me inside a pendulous magenta harness with polydactyl–perverted plumes bespattered into it. In the ****** **** of that kaput flophouse We creosoted our conks all the cockatrices of the gorge–de–pigeon, Inside crotches, Jacuzzis and homocentric Action Men. Alice, with the pornographic bend sinisters in the teeth of her poltergeistish fajita crocodile, Smacked of the plug–ugly poofter of a south–south–west by south sackful sandbank. I cemented the jaundiced dangler of an ostrich to my prick. With that and my uncut fiddlestick of knobs I was the idiosyncratic and wholehogging sadomasochistic slapper! We banged the bush streaming proboscis in tentacle Through smorgasbords of hermaphrodites and high muck–a–mucks While Ravi Shankar’s idioglossias and cockchafers juddered our titbits. Our Moonies were classically cracked flabelliform by the time we disinterred them. Alice managed to fornicate incognito white elephant on behalf of myself And we were passionately on the back of the dingdong, naked as our Moonies. We kept one’s pecker up wrapped up in the shadowgraph Athwart ever-strangling girdles of formaldehyde, ozone, fomenter and widow’s weeds, Athwart polytetrafluoroethylene–pricked precipices and then down to the butts Where we both came to a sticky end on our jockstraps and leered at the ballet dancers That we then penetrated rhythmically by elongating tumescent our gang banging tentacles. Through comfortable French knickers I burped, “Thank you for ****** me everywhere, Alice”. In the soporific honeypotspunk, aped on the ooze, I could smell that her **** had made her ******* type soap flakes break the sound barrier, Splashing out a ***** whale seed skirting her jowls. “You’re fragrant, flypaper”, she rapped. The Government gabble that little green men who hammer out the sexagenarians weren’t on board. Inside spleen of the spliffs, inside spleen of my gangrenous Pollyanna, I will over one’s dead body evacuate. I will over one’s dead body evacuate.
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Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 4:09 PM UTC
San Francisco
Alice and I were fudged fruiting inside Falstaffian freakish fleur–de–lys: She inside a quack–aztec–tattooed tank, Me inside a pendulous magenta harness with polydactyl–perverted plumes bespattered into it. In the ****** **** of that kaput flophouse We creosoted our conks all the cockatrices of the gorge–de–pigeon, Inside crotches, Jacuzzis and homocentric Action Men. Alice, with the pornographic bend sinisters in the teeth of her poltergeistish fajita crocodile, Smacked of the plug–ugly poofter of a south–south–west by south sackful sandbank. I cemented the jaundiced dangler of an ostrich to my prick. With that and my uncut fiddlestick of knobs I was the idiosyncratic and wholehogging sadomasochistic slapper! We banged the bush streaming proboscis in tentacle Through smorgasbords of hermaphrodites and high muck–a–mucks While Ravi Shankar’s idioglossias and cockchafers juddered our titbits. Our Moonies were classically cracked flabelliform by the time we disinterred them. Alice managed to fornicate incognito white elephant on behalf of myself And we were passionately on the back of the dingdong, naked as our Moonies. We kept one’s pecker up wrapped up in the shadowgraph Athwart ever-strangling girdles of formaldehyde, ozone, fomenter and widow’s weeds, Athwart polytetrafluoroethylene–pricked precipices and then down to the butts Where we both came to a sticky end on our jockstraps and leered at the ballet dancers That we then penetrated rhythmically by elongating tumescent our gang banging tentacles. Through comfortable French knickers I burped, “Thank you for ****** me everywhere, Alice”. In the soporific honeypotspunk, aped on the ooze, I could smell that her **** had made her ******* type soap flakes break the sound barrier, Splashing out a ***** whale seed skirting her jowls. “You’re fragrant, flypaper”, she rapped. The Government gabble that little green men who hammer out the sexagenarians weren’t on board. Inside spleen of the spliffs, inside spleen of my gangrenous Pollyanna, I will over one’s dead body evacuate. I will over one’s dead body evacuate.
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30
When the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more, And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore, And o'er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float. There's joyance and there's freedom when the fishing boats go out. The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves, And sending sparkling kisses o'er the brows of ****** waves, While routed dawn-mists shiver­oh, far and fast they flee, Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea! Behind us, fair, light-smitten hills in dappled splendor lie, Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky­ Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar. [Page 35] The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free, There's keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty! Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails out-blown, And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own. Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze, And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas, Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping sea-gulls float, And all the water-world's alive when the fishing boats go out.
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When the Fishing Boats Go Out
Storm Canvas A storm canvas can take you away Thunderstorms and lightening Tempest roaring high Tumult of a tropic sky Impatient as the phantom wind Magenta jealousy The earth summons Wanting whorls Invisible love potion Dare to walk in its wake Hands in the air Clean crisp air I become transparent My passion dims The cyclone whispers Grizzly arms athwart the sky I am no longer a slave to society The breeze of heaven blows Upon my soul
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Aug 1, 2010
Aug 1, 2010 at 6:56 AM UTC
Storm Canvas
Spirit and Breath of Life, whate'er Thy name! Bear with Thy creature, Man, That makes his dwelling-place a blot of shame Upon the Ordered Plan. Not Thy hand, O Divine Designer, hurled Athwart the starlit skies One blood-stained, greed-diseased, hate-eaten world, To shock celestial eyes. Not Thy default, O Beautiful, this crust Of fratricidal crime, These maggot-breeds of hunger and of lust That Thy fair work begrime. But ours, who mock Thee from the highest place, And in the light of day; Who claim to lead an upward-struggling race, And will not seek the way. Guards of the human birthright, at Thy call - A city sacked and burned; Guards of the house that is the home of all, But whence the weak are spurned. Brothers, to whom the outcast brothers cry As with a voice unknown; Stewards of Nature's bounty, that deny The lawful heirs their own. Thou that hast made us men, and earth so fair, To be so vilely used, Give space for late repentance and repair Of sacred trust abused. Give time, Eternal, that we stanch these tears, Give time to heal this sore, That our brief speck amid the shining spheres Disgrace its birth no more. But sail ethereal seas, an orb of light, To bear Thy purpose on Until it fades into the cosmic night Where the dead worlds have gone.
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A Prayer
My beloved angel One with Radiant hazel eyes Chatoyant like clusters Of stars On a moonless night My beloved angel One with A warm sultry smile As to tempt wary kissers Commit mischief My beloved angel One with A pristine voice So fresh As to wake the dead From their desolate Silent graves My beloved angel One with a vivacious voice So euphonious As to elicit The descent of angels Down unto earth My beloved angel One with A melodious voice So harmonious As to leave one In a daze Just mesmerized Whilst stars scintillate Athwart velvet skies My beloved angel One with A dimpled cheek Giving way for onlookers As to be hypnotized Whilst stars scintillate Athwart velvet skies My beloved angel One with Bona fide pulchritude Which brings about Myriads of creatures From across all environs Surrounding her   Gravitate towards her As to crave Such a ravishing queen My beloved angel One whose Exuberant personality Had me thrilled to bits Vanished like whispers In the wind
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
My Beloved Angel
Where Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With an ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone: At noon the wild bee hummeth About the moss'd headstone: At midnight the moon cometh, And looketh down alone. Her song the lintwhite swelleth, The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth, The callow throstle lispeth, The slumbrous wave outwelleth, The babbling runnel crispeth, The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low-lieth.
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Claribel
The rhyme of the poet Modulates the king's affairs, Balance-loving nature Made all things in pairs. To every foot its antipode, Each color with its counter glowed, To every tone beat answering tones, Higher or graver; Flavor gladly blends with flavor; Leaf answers leaf upon the bough, And match the paired cotyledons. Hands to hands, and feet to feet, In one body grooms and brides; Eldest rite, two married sides In every mortal meet. Light's far furnace shines, Smelting ***** and bars, Forging double stars, Glittering twins and trines. The animals are sick with love, Lovesick with rhyme; Each with all propitious Time Into chorus wove. Like the dancers' ordered band, Thoughts come also hand in hand, In equal couples mated, Or else alternated, Adding by their mutual gage One to other health and age. Solitary fancies go Short-lived wandering to and fro, Most like to bachelors, Or an ungiven maid, Not ancestors, With no posterity to make the lie afraid, Or keep truth undecayed. Perfect paired as eagle's wings, Justice is the rhyme of things; Trade and counting use The serf-same tuneful muse; And Nemesis, Who with even matches odd, Who athwart space redresses The partial wrong, Fills the just period, And finishes the song. Subtle rhymes with ruin rife Murmur in the house of life, Sung by the Sisters as they spin; In perfect time and measure, they Build and unbuild our echoing clay, As the two twilights of the day Fold us music-drunken in.
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Merlin II
III Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart! Unlike our uses and our destinies. Our ministering two angels look surprise On one another, as they strike athwart Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art A guest for queens to social pageantries, With gages from a hundred brighter eyes Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part Of chief musician. What hast thou to do With looking from the lattice-lights at me, A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree? The chrism is on thine head,—on mine, the dew,— And Death must dig the level where these agree.
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Sonnet 03 - Unlike Are We, Unlike, O Princely Heart!
Feeling the pain of tectonic plates shifting athwart my heart, I say unbearable, but she will see- subduction will not be the death of me. Buried beneath, what she betrayed, this heart cannot go on this way. The deep sea trenches in my brain distort and break my peaceful face. The shock within, your evil sin, fractured to the mantle, this conduction brings a lava flow I know my heart can love again.
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Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 7:51 AM UTC
My Volcanic Heart
"Mariana in the Moated Grange" (Shakespeare, Measure for Measure) With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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Mariana
"Mariana in the Moated Grange" (Shakespeare, Measure for Measure) With blackest moss the flower-plots Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange: Unlifted was the clinking latch; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light: From the dark fen the oxen's low In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark: For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low, And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro, She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about. Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof, The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour When the thick-moted sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower. Then said she, "I am very dreary, She wept, "I am aweary, aweary, Oh God, that I were dead!"
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XIX The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise; I barter curl for curl upon that mart, And from my poet’s forehead to my heart Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,— As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, . . . The bay-crown’s shade, Beloved, I surmise, Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black! Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing breath, I tie the shadows safe from gliding back, And lay the gift where nothing hindereth; Here on my heart, as on thy brow, to lack No natural heat till mine grows cold in death.
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Sonnet 19 - The Soul’s Rialto Hath Its Merchandise
Her fingertips loosed the glass bottle, which had of late gathered rain like the hands of paupers. Glitter in a heartbeat. to be collected by old battered shoes or car tyres and streetwise magpies. it joins a city evensong this oceanic roar of nothing fusing chords of cars and smoke and lonely dogs with hacks and throngs of perambulating suits and suitors trampling athwart broads of concrete As swifts in summer. We swim in it through open atriums and barren rooms of magnolia and magnolia and magnolia. All the while if you look harder you see through chinks a sepulchre in each greying tower ranging higher and higher still. Machines and machinations stacking life upon life to build pyramids to gaudy kings in pinstripe or herringbone. Flumes of fumes ***** like floods Into and out of train stops and bus stands. Circling lungs like hungry crows. Crows which haunt Bombed out chapels made new resuscitated with waxen ivy and ivory lilies. And the leaves of saintly oak trees chatter in shrinking crevices of green story telling Of how people and things grow old. And you can walk these streets And dive too like cormorants into The platitudes of city living. Soaked to the skin in sound to tell your story like the shards of a broken bottle.
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Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
Cityscape
Like labour-laden moonclouds faint to flee From winds that sweep the winter-bitten wold,— Like multiform circumfluence manifold Of night’s flood-tide,—like terrors that agree Of hoarse-tongued fire and inarticulate sea,— Even such, within some glass dimmed by our breath, Our hearts discern wild images of Death, Shadows and shoals that edge eternity. Howbeit athwart Death’s imminent shade doth soar One Power, than flow of stream or flight of dove Sweeter to glide around, to brood above. Tell me, my heart;—what angel-greeted door Or threshold of wing-winnowed threshing-floor Hath guest fire-fledged as thine, whose lord is Love?
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Through Death To Love
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might! O sun, that from thy noonday height Shudderest when I strain my sight, Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light, Lo, falling from my constant mind, Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind, I whirl like leaves in roaring wind. Last night I wasted hateful hours Below the city's eastern towers: I thirsted for the brooks, the showers: I roll'd among the tender flowers: I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth; I look'd athwart the burning drouth Of that long desert to the south. Last night, when some one spoke his name, From my swift blood that went and came A thousand little shafts of flame Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. O Love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. Before he mounts the hill, I know He cometh quickly: from below Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow Before him, striking on my brow. In my dry brain my spirit soon, Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, Faints like a daled morning moon. The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight. My whole soul waiting silently, All naked in a sultry sky, Droops blinded with his shining eye: I will possess him or will die. I will grow round him in his place, Grow, live, die looking on his face, Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.
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Fatima
O Love, Love, Love! O withering might! O sun, that from thy noonday height Shudderest when I strain my sight, Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light, Lo, falling from my constant mind, Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind, I whirl like leaves in roaring wind. Last night I wasted hateful hours Below the city's eastern towers: I thirsted for the brooks, the showers: I roll'd among the tender flowers: I crush'd them on my breast, my mouth; I look'd athwart the burning drouth Of that long desert to the south. Last night, when some one spoke his name, From my swift blood that went and came A thousand little shafts of flame Were shiver'd in my narrow frame. O Love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. Before he mounts the hill, I know He cometh quickly: from below Sweet gales, as from deep gardens, blow Before him, striking on my brow. In my dry brain my spirit soon, Down-deepening from swoon to swoon, Faints like a daled morning moon. The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight. My whole soul waiting silently, All naked in a sultry sky, Droops blinded with his shining eye: I will possess him or will die. I will grow round him in his place, Grow, live, die looking on his face, Die, dying clasp'd in his embrace.
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i. Amain we wilt ascend to the blue, Passed the stars- Planet's to. ii. Thou shalt wear a ring Made of sapphire; Refined, and new, Glazed betwixt the fire. iii. Loving thee, thou loving me athwart a topaz pass, and sea's of Glass; wherein hope doth last And bird's soar free. iv. None more reasons to be in need, God's the light of the city we'll see; God is love, God's above, God is Light and bright, as all is right- In his presence await's All that's clean. v. We'll see color's, turquoise green- We'll see hue's, mankind's Not seen. vi. Men's faith hath darkened From selfishness and greed; We must be the light's, the cities upon the hilltop's, wherein the dark Dost fail; wherein God's breath Dost breathe. © Brandon nagley © Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Sardua nagley dedicated
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
Iustus ire in saltum, topazius ( Just athwart the topaz pass) latin tongue
The sky is laced with fitful red, The circling mists and shadows flee, The dawn is rising from the sea, Like a white lady from her bed. And jagged brazen arrows fall Athwart the feathers of the night, And a long wave of yellow light Breaks silently on tower and hall, And spreading wide across the wold Wakes into flight some fluttering bird, And all the chestnut tops are stirred, And all the branches streaked with gold.
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Impression—Le Reveillon
To-night the winds begin to rise And roar from yonder dropping day: The last red leaf is whirl'd away, The rooks are blown about the skies; The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd, The cattle huddled on the lea; And wildly dash'd on tower and tree The sunbeam strikes along the world: And but for fancies, which aver That all thy motions gently pass Athwart a plane of molten glass, I scarce could brook the strain and stir That makes the barren branches loud; And but for fear it is not so, The wild unrest that lives in woe Would dote and pore on yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a labouring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.
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In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 015
Faced back before the field space overrun of runway's end, rusted spikes of flower'd dock, the field left empty there.  World's airport flatlined beyond and down the sky ride planes on turbined mist.  The stack's descent, each air-braked glide to tarmac draws another on and down the day I slip off into, drive away along the curve of it.  Before Haslemere, where a tight hedged bend turns up to the town, is a roe deer, struck dead against a van.  The driver, in descent, appalled before the long, spread body of this two year buck, its twin-tined head laid to ground, a trickle of blood at the mouth. It fell to this elegant pose athwart the van's front width, white neck flopped from the withers; Crash landed in a sudden grace of death.
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Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 8:03 AM UTC
Flight of the Deer
With blackest moss the flower-plots          Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots          That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange:          Unlifted was the clinking latch;          Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even;          Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven,          Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats,          When thickest dark did trance the sky,          She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats.                 She only said, "The night is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night,          Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light:          From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change,          In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn,          Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange.                 She only said, "The day is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall          A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small,          The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway,          All silver-green with gnarled bark:          For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said "I am aweary, aweary                         I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low,          And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro,          She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low          And wild winds bound within their cell,          The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow.                 She only said, "The night is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;               She said "I am aweary, aweary,                             I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house,          The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse          Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about.          Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors          Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof,          The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof          The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour          When the thick-moted sunbeam lay          Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower.                 Then said she, "I am very dreary,                         He will not come," she said;                 She wept, "I am aweary, aweary,                         Oh God, that I were dead!" Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
Mariana
With blackest moss the flower-plots          Were thickly crusted, one and all: The rusted nails fell from the knots          That held the pear to the gable-wall. The broken sheds look'd sad and strange:          Unlifted was the clinking latch;          Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" Her tears fell with the dews at even;          Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven,          Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats,          When thickest dark did trance the sky,          She drew her casement-curtain by, And glanced athwart the glooming flats.                 She only said, "The night is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" Upon the middle of the night,          Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The **** sung out an hour ere light:          From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her: without hope of change,          In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn,          Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange.                 She only said, "The day is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" About a stone-cast from the wall          A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small,          The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway,          All silver-green with gnarled bark:          For leagues no other tree did mark The level waste, the rounding gray.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said "I am aweary, aweary                         I would that I were dead!" And ever when the moon was low,          And the shrill winds were up and away, In the white curtain, to and fro,          She saw the gusty shadow sway. But when the moon was very low          And wild winds bound within their cell,          The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow.                 She only said, "The night is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;               She said "I am aweary, aweary,                             I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house,          The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse          Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, Or from the crevice peer'd about.          Old faces glimmer'd thro' the doors          Old footsteps trod the upper floors, Old voices called her from without.                 She only said, "My life is dreary,                         He cometh not," she said;                 She said, "I am aweary, aweary,                         I would that I were dead!" The sparrow's chirrup on the roof,          The slow clock ticking, and the sound Which to the wooing wind aloof          The poplar made, did all confound Her sense; but most she loathed the hour          When the thick-moted sunbeam lay          Athwart the chambers, and the day Was sloping toward his western bower.                 Then said she, "I am very dreary,                         He will not come," she said;                 She wept, "I am aweary, aweary,                         Oh God, that I were dead!" Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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