Representative Poetry Online

Poems

1I am tired of all voices. Friend and fool

2Have come too nearly with me to the shrine

3That is the secret kept by wind and pine.

4Now, when the shadowy hands of dusk are cool

5About my eyes, shall silence like a god

6Drive them with whips of starlight from his stairs.

7Only the small grass striving in its clod,

8Only the stream, that fragile moonlight bears

9Like blossoms on its breast, move in this place,

10All earth lies still as some beloved face

11Whose dreaming mouth and deep-curved eyelids make

12Bridges to God that lightest sound would break,

14Yet if through darkening trees you came at last,

16And in your eyes the blessing of the moon,

17I think it would be well. I think our greeting

18Would be as quiet as two rivers meeting,

19Which, drawn together, sparkling up in foam,

20Slide into one bright seeking; and our home

21Should be the furthest longing of pale seas,

22Beyond the purple caverns of the trees.

13] iconoclast: a person who attacks cherished beliefs or institutions; someone who destroys sacred images used in religious worship. Back to Line

15] shoon: archaic term for "shoes." Back to Line