I am—yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes— They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed Into the nothingness of scorn...
"Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus ne memineris, Domine." I left, to earth, a little maiden fair, With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light; I prayed that God might have her in His care And sight. Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song; (Sweet mother-earth was...
O well for him who lives at ease With garnered gold in wide domain, Nor heeds the splashing of the rain, The crashing down of forest trees. - O well for him who ne'er hath known The travail of the hungry years, A father grey with grief and tears, A mother weeping...
As down the street she wambled slow, She had not got a place to go: She had not got a place to fall And rest herself—no place at all. She stumped along and wagged her pate And said a thing was desperate. Her face was screwed and wrinkled tight Just like a...
Read MoreAh stern cold man, How can you lie so relentless hard While I wash you with weeping water! Ah face, carved hard and cold, You have been like this, on your guard Against me, since death began. You masquerader! How can you shame to act this part Of unswerving indifference to me? It is...
Read MoreI am old and blind! Men point at me as smitten by God's frown; Afflicted and deserted of my kind, Yet am I not cast down. I am weak, yet strong; I murmur not that I no longer see; Poor, old, and helpless, I the more belong, Father Supreme! to Thee. All-merciful One! When...
Read MoreVII In one year they sent a million fighters forth South and North, And they built their gods a brazen pillar high As the sky, Yet reserved a thousand chariots in full force— Gold, of course. Oh heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns! Earth’s returns For whole centuries of folly, noise, and...
Read MoreA hut, and a tree, And a hill for me, And a piece of a weedy meadow. I’ll ask no thing, Of God or king, But to clear away his shadow. Max Eastman...
The royal feast was done; the King Sought some new sport to banish care, And to his jester cried: “Sir Fool, Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!” The jester doffed his cap and bells, And stood the mocking court before; They could not see the bitter smile Behind the painted...
Read MoreAnd I say to mankind, Be not curious about God, For I who am curious about each am not curious about God, (No array of terms can say how much I am at peace about God and about death.) I hear and behold God in every object, yet understand...