Poems about plain
We Nearer Steal To Take Away
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
and carried me away
beyond the trait to take away
the only one i meet
i cannot see a spoke
i don't know him; snugly built!
that i might look on thee?
we nearer steal to thee!
i held so high, for thee
i offered being for it
then i my timid service done
Seen Magic Through The Ignorance Steals
upon the ignorance steals
seen magic through the fright
he flung a hand full at the plain
oh, when the squirrel fills his pockets
that if the spirit like to hide
that darkness is about to pass,
and that by right that he
since no one know his circumstance
if the life be too surrendered
nor myself to him by accent
I Fear That Never Wrote To Me
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
how sweet i shall not lack in vain
they may not finally say, yes
i'm glad they did believe it
that never wrote to me
i have another trust"
i learned at least what home could be
i need no further argue
for thinking while i die
i fear that he is grand
Hold No Lie
sweet mountains ye tell me no lie
more mountains then a sea
to steep its shape away
or what the distant say
and hold no higher than the plain
as far as it could see
how well i knew the light before
her glory i should know
It Have Beyond Itself
the anguish and the loss
exactly as the world
it made the hurry plain
if town it have beyond itself
occur to her alone
a little further reaches instead
too out of sight though
before were cities but between
If I Might Come,
but never stranger justified
had all my life but been mistake
if certain, when this life was out,
into this port, if i might come,
than the rest have gone,
and when they all were seated,
and yet, as poor as i,
still to be explained,
whose are the little beds, i asked
who knows but at the sight of that
and the earth they tell me
Hold No Higher Than The News Be
they emerge from his obscuring
but when the news be ripe
yet was not the foe of any
and hold no higher than the plain
their far parades order on the eye
the day must follow too,
Could The Cars Have But The Cars Have
my worthiness is all my doubt
and beg me put it on
for i had worn it, every day,
still to be explained,
for i have but the power to kill,
i'd rather be the one
it seems as though the time
it has no future but itself
and grateful that a thing
is when the cars have come
could the children find the way there
this covert have all the children
it cannot be my spirit
somehow, it will be even
Life Is Gotten Not Of It
a sepulchre, fears frost, no more
and hold no higher than the plain
who knows but we'd reach the sun?
was all the one that fell
on here and there a creature
is difficult, and still
is gotten not of fingers
some secret that was pushing
i've known her from an ample nation
life is what we make of it
the single to some lives,
then space began to toll,
in kingdoms you have heard the raised
and after that there's heaven
I'll Go Your Way And I'll Go
no numb alarm lest difference come
nor can you tell me
the rainbow never tells me
so therefore let me in,"
when it began, or if there were
and if it had not been so far
and hold no higher than the plain
or early task to do?
not easy to surprise!
so go your way and i'll go mine
what could it hinder so to say?
I Hung Upon The Same
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
but tell him that it ceased to feel
where it used to be
i know not which, desire, or grant
and this one do not feel the same
what and if it be
because i cannot see
so satisfied to go
came out to look at me -
feeling as if their pillow heard,
i hung upon the peg, at night,
i pondered, may have judged,
i would not weep if i were they
and the day that i despaired
when was it can you tell
For Thee!
my justice bleeds for thee!
no need hadst thou of us"?
and tell him charge thee speak it plain
i could not deem it late to hear
he could suffice for me
life is what we make of it
to no one that you know
all this and more if i should tell
the day that i shall go
the way i read a letter's this
for just this single time
the plenty hurt me 'twas so new
i'll hand it to the angel
won't you wish you'd spoken
why didn't we detain them?
Seemed Strong When I Am Overtired
of apple-picking, i am overtired
seemed strong when i was young;
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
and the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns
and then there was a pile of wood for which
a little through the lips and throat,
a cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
and a hush falls for all acclaim,
and work was little in the house,
and golden seems the sandy plain,
the overimportant pair,
the ties gave,
across the handle's long, drawn serpentine,
the curve of earth, and striking, break their own;
but all came every night with the mist;
In Your Condition; You In Your Condition; You
and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain,
by coming with what they came to ask,
and to know definitely what he thinks about the soul;
well i know where to hie me in the dawn,
that seems to tell me how i ought to feel,
if i was not to speak of it to you
you have only to ask me, and i can tell,
to you in your condition; you can't know
how no one dead will seem to come,
in one last look the way they must not go,
and it seems like the time when after doubt
she seemed to think that two thus they were safe,
hearts not averse to being beguiled,
next to nothing for color,
to seek the happy isles together,
As It Flow,
tree at my window, window tree,
bath my window, make it flow,
and dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain,
my dears, my dears, you thought that�we all thought it,
leastways for me and then they'll be convinced,
if that was your idea, against the breeze,
were not the one dead, turned to their affairs,
and her face changed from terrified to dull,
a quiet light, and then not even that,
"well, those days trouble silas like a dream,
like a pistil after the petals go,
as it ran light, or had to bear a load,