Poems about giant
So When You Praised Me, Sweet,
and we behold no more,
a giant eye to eye with you, had been
a heaven not so large as yours,
that first day, when you praised me, sweet,
so when 't was time to see,
neither if he visit other
Her Polar Time They Will Be What
the hunger does not cease
and they will differ if they do
i meant to have but modest needs
how fitter they will be for want
the maker of ourselves be what
the lightning playeth all the while
and hungered for the same
her polar time behind
but held her gravity aloft
that held the dams had parted hold
there came one drop of giant rain,
first time they try the sky!
whether my bark went down at sea
As That Is Not Enough!
but no man moved me till the tide
had it a notice from the noon
and if it had not been so far
but that is not enough!
as that same watcher, when the east
but once a century, the rose
they're here, though; not a creature failed,
and then, those little anodynes
i will forget the light,
a giant eye to eye with you, had been
and i arise and in my dream
just when the grave and i
to hands i cannot see
Than The Time
the distance would not haunt me so
the crier's voice would tell me
show me the bells
a giant eye to eye with you, had been
so, i could buy it
sometimes, i think that noon
if i may have it, when it's dead,
because it's sunday all the time
if one wake at midnight better
the waves grew sleepy breath did not
earth would have been too much i see
more fair, because impossible
than the rest have gone,
that never had a name
is it dead find it
Just This Time, Some Perfect Year
'tis true that deity to stoop
and fear is like the one
for such, the angels go
if when the sun reveal,
a giant eye to eye with you, had been
who put a head away
away from me
yet held my breath, the while
how just this time, some perfect year
she looks down just as often
it don't sound so terrible quite as it did
the face i carry with me last
when i could take it in my hand
just as he spoke it from his hands
if he put away
A Comb,
as if they just repressed
that calm is but a wall
and a suspicion, like a finger
the grass divides as with a comb,
and left the little angle worm
and one below this morning
there came one drop of giant rain,
it's cooler than the dawn
it's thoughts and just one heart
a little road not made of man
is not a controvertible