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"nowise" poems
Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain -- - Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there Gladly were I a prisoner! Dearest, through interwoven arms By love made tremulous, That night allures me where alarms Nowise may trouble us; But lseep to dreamier sleep be wed Where soul with soul lies prisoned.
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Of That So Sweet Imprisonment
THE woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy; Yet still she turns her restless head: But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked tune that Chronos sings, Words alone are certain good. Where are now the warring kings, Word be-mockers? -- By the Rood, Where are now the watring kings? An idle word is now their glory, By the stammering schoolboy said, Reading some entangled story: The kings of the old time are dead; The wandering earth herself may be Only a sudden flaming word, In clanging space a moment heard, Troubling the endless reverie. Then nowise worship dusty deeds, Nor seek, for this is also sooth, To hunger fiercely after truth, Lest all thy toiling only breeds New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth Saving in thine own heart. Seek, then, No learning from the starry men, Who follow with the optic glass The whirling ways of stars that pass -- Seek, then, for this is also sooth, No word of theirs -- the cold star-bane Has cloven and rent their hearts in twain, And dead is all their human truth. Go gather by the humming sea Some twisted, echo-harbouring shell. And to its lips thy story tell, And they thy comforters will be. Rewording in melodious guile Thy fretful words a little while, Till they shall singing fade in ruth And die a pearly brotherhood; For words alone are certain good: Sing, then, for this is also sooth. I must be gone: there is a grave Where daffodil and lily wave, And I would please the hapless faun, Buried under the sleepy ground, With mirthful songs before the dawn. His shouting days with mirth were crowned; And still I dream he treads the lawn, Walking ghostly in the dew, Pierced by my glad singing through, My songs of old earth's dreamy youth: But ah! she dreams not now; dream thou! For fair are poppies on the brow: Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
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The Song Of The Happy Shepherd
THE woods of Arcady are dead, And over is their antique joy; Of old the world on dreaming fed; Grey Truth is now her painted toy; Yet still she turns her restless head: But O, sick children of the world, Of all the many changing things In dreary dancing past us whirled, To the cracked tune that Chronos sings, Words alone are certain good. Where are now the warring kings, Word be-mockers? -- By the Rood, Where are now the watring kings? An idle word is now their glory, By the stammering schoolboy said, Reading some entangled story: The kings of the old time are dead; The wandering earth herself may be Only a sudden flaming word, In clanging space a moment heard, Troubling the endless reverie. Then nowise worship dusty deeds, Nor seek, for this is also sooth, To hunger fiercely after truth, Lest all thy toiling only breeds New dreams, new dreams; there is no truth Saving in thine own heart. Seek, then, No learning from the starry men, Who follow with the optic glass The whirling ways of stars that pass -- Seek, then, for this is also sooth, No word of theirs -- the cold star-bane Has cloven and rent their hearts in twain, And dead is all their human truth. Go gather by the humming sea Some twisted, echo-harbouring shell. And to its lips thy story tell, And they thy comforters will be. Rewording in melodious guile Thy fretful words a little while, Till they shall singing fade in ruth And die a pearly brotherhood; For words alone are certain good: Sing, then, for this is also sooth. I must be gone: there is a grave Where daffodil and lily wave, And I would please the hapless faun, Buried under the sleepy ground, With mirthful songs before the dawn. His shouting days with mirth were crowned; And still I dream he treads the lawn, Walking ghostly in the dew, Pierced by my glad singing through, My songs of old earth's dreamy youth: But ah! she dreams not now; dream thou! For fair are poppies on the brow: Dream, dream, for this is also sooth.
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57
Sometimes I fain would find in thee some fault, That I might love thee still in spite of it: Yet how should our Lord Love curtail one whit Thy perfect praise whom most he would exalt? Alas! he can but make my heart’s low vault Even in men’s sight unworthier, being lit By thee, who thereby show’st more exquisite Like fiery chrysoprase in deep basalt. Yet will I nowise shrink; but at Love’s shrine Myself within the beams his brow doth dart Will set the flashing jewel of thy heart In that dull chamber where it deigns to shine: For lo! in honour of thine excellencies My heart takes pride to show how poor it is.
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The Lamp’s Shrine
Do you recall the crack brained noddys   predict t'would happen soon? Do you recall the way they showed our planet fall in ruin? The C.N.D with faces white, deployed their caskets through the night It was only a theatrical piece or a fancy dress nowise Their rumblings of dark dust clouds, engulfing our Heavenly sky's We wiser people tried to stay awhile, even the sullen beings grinned a wiry smile As their destructive speeches permeated our very brain We pitied them, poor fools, for we knew they were insane And still our ugly laughter, carried by the breeze, could not deter them as they begged us listen on their bended knees. Remember Nagasaki? their chanting grew so loud I switched my mind to pleasant things , and watched a passing cloud Join the Greenpeace women! Say no to Cellafield waste! I couldn't bear unpleasant things, I left them then , in haste. Chernobyl Disaster! all the headlines read Many hundreds injured .... but only two are dead! " Please be calm " cried politicians "this is all unfounded fear" " Its many, many miles away, it will never reach us here"   My thoughts were switched to Cellafield and places much the same I thought of the C.N.D, I hung my head in shame. For they came to convey a notion, To save the human race Clasping symbolic caskets Each had a whitened face They came to give a warning to those that wouldn't see I salute the presistant efforts of the protesting C.N.D What did I do to help, as these people were harassed ? Am I guilty too of somewhere in the past?
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Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 5:09 PM UTC
Somewhere in the past
Do you recall the crack brained noddys   predict t'would happen soon? Do you recall the way they showed our planet fall in ruin? The C.N.D with faces white, deployed their caskets through the night It was only a theatrical piece or a fancy dress nowise Their rumblings of dark dust clouds, engulfing our Heavenly sky's We wiser people tried to stay awhile, even the sullen beings grinned a wiry smile As their destructive speeches permeated our very brain We pitied them, poor fools, for we knew they were insane And still our ugly laughter, carried by the breeze, could not deter them as they begged us listen on their bended knees. Remember Nagasaki? their chanting grew so loud I switched my mind to pleasant things , and watched a passing cloud Join the Greenpeace women! Say no to Cellafield waste! I couldn't bear unpleasant things, I left them then , in haste. Chernobyl Disaster! all the headlines read Many hundreds injured .... but only two are dead! " Please be calm " cried politicians "this is all unfounded fear" " Its many, many miles away, it will never reach us here"   My thoughts were switched to Cellafield and places much the same I thought of the C.N.D, I hung my head in shame. For they came to convey a notion, To save the human race Clasping symbolic caskets Each had a whitened face They came to give a warning to those that wouldn't see I salute the presistant efforts of the protesting C.N.D What did I do to help, as these people were harassed ? Am I guilty too of somewhere in the past?
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52
*Conflated afore Twofold elation Betimes for melancholia Insentient erewhile Heretofore We love semovedly Together nowise Enow*
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Hither
being denizen of no place ready set within the bounds of the sublunar realm is nowise daunting the facts overwhelm only the weaker minds instead each debt incurred in course of duty or regret is paid in full by shade of oak or elm in memory of the old man with cracked helm by one who can't resist that final bet each night is sacrificed so that my rest becomes a loss that's added to the pile just one more line that goes into the jest another little twist those are in style the truth is always harder than the lie that's what they tell us then they say goodbye
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May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
then they say goodbye
I should allow myself doing nothing. It's odd, it's not a bit me at all. Working and working, on and on always. There's short of days and nights noway in whole. I should allow myself off-the-cuff, Thinking or straining nowise entirely. Just sit around and doing nothing, And savour my unsweet coffee calmly. I should allow myself simply never Leave my desires and dreams until later. I'm not forever with this time exactly. I'm a grain of creation in fact, no greater. I should allow myself to live truly, To live this life as it's given to me since day one. And now simply live, there is no hurry. I've already much more and awry done.
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May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 5:38 PM UTC
I should allow myself to live