Poems about stain
The Lingering And The Lingering And The Stain
the lingering and the stain i mean
what comfort was it wisdom was
just him not me
and golden hang while farther up
You've Seen It On A Bird
who misery sustain
brothers and sister who preferred the glory
where each has left a friend
to him who has it and the one
who knows but at the sight of that
but you have enough of those
you've seen it on a cast's face
if they would linger for a bird
is all the rest i knew!
so safer guess with just my soul
it feels a shame to be alive
if i shouldn't be alive
why, i will lend until just then,
Tell Him It Does
his merit all my fear
it struck me every day
thee then no me
he'll sigh "the other she is where?
"
tell him it wasn't a practised writer
it was dying then
a beggar here and there
the lingering and the stain i mean
a doubt if it be fair indeed
as dying say it does
it will be ample time for me
the lily waiting to be wed
patient upon the steps until then
death doubts it argues from the ground
the bird would not arise
Till Love That You Know
who misery sustain
of savors make us conscious
to no one that you know
till love that was and love too best to be
and life was not so ample i
i do not own a house
"why do i love" you, sir?
i knew not but the next
we trust that she was willing
was he afraid or tranquil
while other went the sea to fill
as one should come to town
and the earth they tell me
Mine Should Be,
who misery sustain
but not for sympathy
except the dying this to us
without the knowing why!
and not enough of me
that yours and mine should be,
nor when it altered, i could say,
so you could see what moved them so
As Misery Sustain
who misery sustain
as misery
if that indeed redeem
this was all
has suffered all it can
he longer must than i
But The Next
as misery
who misery sustain
forever of his fate to taste
be so ashamed of thee
no summer could for them
for their sake not for ours
but then i'm not so staid as he
when peace was far away
i had been hungry, all the years
but only knew by looking back
i knew not but the next
"heaven" is what i cannot reach!
we don't cry tim and i,
Then Measuring The Stain I Mean
never mind silent fields
the sun and moon must make their haste
then measuring the sun
the lingering and the stain i mean
They Struggle Some Perfect Year
they struggle some for breath
the lingering and the stain i mean
that but for love of us
better than new could be for that
and then be audibler
better than new could be for that
for mine to look at when i liked
when you were willing
failed like themselves and conscious that it rose
that life like this is stopless
then look for me, be sure you say
how just this time, some perfect year
would be acuter, would it not
they cannot put away
neither place need i present him
The Place, With All My Might
who misery sustain
the sunrise sire compelleth me
include us as they go
and people come
i left the place, with all my might
that he'll mistake and ask for me
Rest, And Thought Of Course, They Can't
and eat the cones under his pines, i tell him,
and medicine and rest, and you a week,
only, of course, they can't sustain the part,
and thought of naught to say,
we were withholding from our land of living,
So, But Dared Not Spare To A Deeper
straight up and down of tall slim trees
leaving on one wire tooth a lock of hair,
before it stained a single human breast,
with a thick thumbnail to show how it ran
change like this to a deeper roar?
but dared not spare to do the best we could
so as to please you, but i might be taught,
if that was what it was, you can be certain,
he promptly gives it back, that is if still
but, warren, please remember how it is,
so, but the hand was gone already,
i was glad though, no end, when we moved out,
and eat the cones under his pines, i tell him,
It Stained A Side, It Stained A Cord
a wind to blow in earnest from some quarter,
to see if the birds lived the first night through,
the water for which we may have to look
see nothing worthy to have been its mark,
not to believe the phoebes wept,
trying to sell his farm and then not selling,
to have you come and camp here on our land,
to find that the utmost reward
and to the forest edge you came one day
when a friend calls to me from the road
one on a side, it comes to little more,
before it stained a single human breast,
it was a cord of maple, cut and split
Across The Least Knot, Equal To The Least
as witness all within
and tags and numbers it for future reference,
only, of course, they can't sustain the part,
which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
the faded earth, the heavy sky,
the total sky almost without defect,
free from the least knot, equal to the strain
shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs,
with the least stiffening of her neck and silence,
the light of heaven falls whole and white
across the lines of straighter darker trees,
The War Seemed Over More Like The War
where nobody can call you crone,
do you know, what we talked about was knowledge?
you could not tell, and yet it looked as if
i meant, you meant, that nothing should remain
so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though,
the war seemed over more for you than me,
make the day seem to us less brief,
god, what a woman! and it's come to this,
before it stained a single human breast,
man acts more like the poor bear in a cage,
like the two strokes across a dollar sign,
a sleepy sound, but mocking half,
she scorns a pasture withering to the root,
Only, Of Course, They Can't Sustain The Wall,
that was a thing we could not wait to learn,
there where it is we do not need the wall,
warren, i wish you could have heard the way
but which it only needs that we fulfill,
on the sidehill, we haven't to mind those,
only, of course, they can't sustain the part,
but thought has need of no such things,
baptiste was anxious for her; but no more
To Go There,
it seems forever
she took a doubtful step and then undid it
before it stained a single human breast,
loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
warren leaned out and took a step or two,
a farm, a countryside, or if he can,
or so the story goes, it was some girl,
so your mistake was ours, haven�t you heard, though,
"home is the place where, when you have to go there,
to find himself in one, well, all we said was
the question that he frames in all but words
and where they sought without the sword
forgetting that as fitted to the sphere,
and that was the case to carry it in,