Poems about port
Or Opportunity Her Lord Away?
or opportunity her lord away?
to take my chance with pain
how easy all can see
i do not need a light
A Thing As You Know It As You
thro' what transporting anguish
you'll know it as you know 'tis noon
to own it touch it
a doubt if it be fair indeed
if town it have beyond itself
and why not this if they?
is there such a thing as "day"?
goes with us just a little way
a robber'd like the look of
too out of sight though
But Stopped, When Qualified To Love, But Not
a fear will urge it where
it would be life
it tried to be a rose
a bomb to justify
whether to reveal
one port suffices for a brig like mine
might death enable thee
it feels a shame to be alive
but not the grief that nestled close
perhaps he doesn't know the house
but stopped, when qualified to guess
nor had i time to love, but since
tell him the page i didn't write
If Just As Breath Is Narrow Loving
for arrogance of them
too wide for any night but heaven
as if for lull of sport
that was in the green
when earth cannot be had
till death is narrow loving
she'd pass for barehead short way off
if just as soon as breath is out
if love be just beyond
how long a day i could endure
What Portion Of Me To Tell Me I
it's thoughts and just one heart
that every time i wake
i've none to tell me to but thee
what portion of me i
you and i the secret
We See
too jostled were our souls to speak
and life and i keep even
and i could i stand by
i'll put a trinket on,
then will i not repine,
not if to talk with me
supporting what we see
i found the phrase to every thought
we shall not want to use again
i've none to tell me to but thee
i only must not change so fair
i know lives, i could miss
If Just As Breath Is So Far Of
nor noticed that the ebbing day
we learned to like the fire
deity will see to it
heaven is so far of the mind
if just as soon as breath is out
the bee is not afraid of me,
what portion of me be
Except The Children No Further Question
to wonder what myself will say,
how well i knew her not
what portion of me i
i've nothing else to bring, you know
in which my call would come
maybe, we shouldn't mind them
to such, if they should whisper
but not to touch, or wish for,
we questioned to, again,
nor ever turn to tell me why
except the dying this to us
and the children no further question
half the condition, thy reverse to follow
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
As One Should Have Been Too Saved I
they're here, though; not a creature failed
i should have been too saved i see
i cannot be ashamed
as one should come to town
refer to possibly,
is difficult, and still
is easy, possibly
ah, too, it has a wing,
into this port, if i might come,
not for the sorrow, done me
now, do you doubt that your bird was true?
of all the birds that be
their coming mentioned be,
Our Portion In The Color Of The World
to the souls that snow
our portion in the fashion
some vision of the world cashmere
the color of the grave is white
just a sea with a stem
a darker ribbon for a day
If They Refuse How Then Know Why When
how many legions overcome
as dying say it does
possibly if they refuse how then know
i shall know why when time is over
bereft i was of what i knew not
although i heard them try
neither place need i present him
if then he hear
and when i looked again
and he was barefoot, i'm afraid!
half glad when it is night, and sleep,
with transport, that would be a pain
himself has but to will
i could not count their force
To Love, But Since
no numb alarm lest difference come
to know if any human eyes were near
good to know, and not tell,
the ballots of eternity, will show just that,
is all that's left them, now
than the rest have gone,
with transport, that would be a pain
the day must follow too,
grant that we may stand,
when we are going home
that one, to be quite sure
they're here, though; not a creature failed,
nor had i time to love, but since
i may remember him!
that something it did do or dare
Let Me Up
let me not shame their sublime deportments
see where it hurt me that's enough
an awe if it should be like that
since a rack couldn't coax a syllable now,
but the least fan
and came my way no more,
as far from mine, as if no plight
but came another day
were the day year long,
the taleless days went on
and made as he would eat me up
But I Was Never In!
i shall not fear the snow,
alone, i cannot be
i was never in!
if those i loved were found
but i have not a crest,
if love be just beyond
what and if it be
too young that any should suspect
let me not shame their sublime deportments
To See That You Should See That Will
thro' what transporting anguish
not such a stanza splits the silence
death is but one and comes but once
to see that none is due?
but not so soon
i could not die with you
just that you should see
the purple could not keep the east,
it's like the woods,
but early, yet, for god
but that old sort was done
it shone so very small
nor beam would it nor warm
i had the glory that will do
Not Enough For Me?
let me not shame their sublime deportments
what word had they for me?
not if to talk with me
unable they that love to die
and heaven not enough for me
precious to me she still shall be
i'd give her
i'm old enough, today, i'm certain then
i cannot tell the sum,
There's Been A Death, In The Grave
the grave would hinder me,
nor definitely what it was,
there's been a death, in the opposite house,
you know that portrait in the moon
the love you offer
so glad we are a stranger'd deem
yet know not what was done to me
the thinking how they walked alive
it had esteemed the dream
Shouldering Its Way And They No Memory Of
admits no memory of choice,
and they no doubt report
expressed them, and its curves were no false curves
and the awe passes wonder then,
shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs,
and brush the mow with the summer load,
the swarm dilating round the perfect trees,
the fresh chips,
making the gravel leap and leap in air,
it was far in the sameness of the wood;
a moment sought in air his flower of rest,
and melting further in the wind to mud,
water came to rebuke the too clear water,
he meant to clear the upper pasture, too,
not to believe the phoebes wept,
Saying, And Mother Came,
hearth with love,
saying, and she could have him, and before
father and mother married, and mother came,
portent in little, assorted death and blight
cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall,
for love of it, and yet not waste time either,
then, as if they were something that, though strange,
so low for long, they never right themselves,
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;
With Me,
"i want him to, he'll have to soon or late,"
he resolves to become intelligible, at least to himself, since there
upon the road, to flames too, though in fear
the life from spilling, then the boy saw all
the difficulty of seeing what stood still,
so inconsolably in the face of love,
and heat so close in; but the thought of all
under the hand of the village barber,
the overimportant pair,
as the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
drawing the slow waves whiter and whiter and whiter,
with the glittering things,
come over the hills and far with me,
A Moment Sought In Air His Flower Of
spares to strike for the common good,
to have inside the house with doors unlocked,
and thing next most diffuse to cloud,
but turns to pink between the teeth,
to lean against and hear in the dark,
to white rest, and a place of rest
in the shape of a man,
a moment sought in air his flower of rest,
and brush the mow with the summer load,
and started down the gully,
portent in little, assorted death and blight
when pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
the trees that have it in their pent-up buds
so close the windows and not hear the wind,
The Blowing,
toward heaven still,
and the pile somewhat sunken, clematis
then the rain stopped and the blowing,
and tripped the body, shot the spirit on
seizes the dead by the middle,
and by the brook our woods were there,
and the awe passes wonder then,
the overimportant pair,
the clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Shouldering Its Strength Lay
the deed of gift was many deeds of war
about our place among the infinities,
and the awe passes wonder then,
the overimportant pair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
these pools that, though in forests, still reflect
the victory for what it lost and gained,
kicking his way down through the air to the ground,
put on it from without, and there its strength lay
she sighed and passed unscared along the wall,
shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs,
and the whimper of hawks beside the sun
the lurking frost in the earth beneath
who mowed it in the dew before the sun,