Short Poems

O the Spring will come,
And once again the wind be in the West
Breathing the odor of the sea; and life,
Life that was ugly, and work that had grew a curse,
Be God's best gifts again; and in your heart
You'll find once more the dreams you thought were dead.

O! start a revolution, somebody!
not to get the money
but to lose it all for ever.

O! start a revolution, somebody!
not to install the working classes
but to abolish the working classes for ever
and have a world of men.

O Love triumphant over guilt and sin,
My soul is soiled, but Thou shalt enter in;
My feet must stumble if I walk alone,
Lonely my heart till beating by Thine own;
My will is weakness till it rest in Thine,
Cut off, I wither, thirsting for the Vine;
My deeds are dry leaves on a sapless tree,
My life is lifeless till it live in Thee!

(The Song of Moses and the Lamb)

O Lord, Almighty God, thy works Both great and wondrous be;
Just King of Saints, and true thy ways, Who shall not reverence thee,
O Lord, and glorify thy name, For holy thou alone;
For nations all shall worship thee, For judgments thine are known.

O for a Booke and a shadie nooke,
— eyther in-a-doore or out;
With the grene leaves whispering overhede,
— or the Streete cryes all about.
Where I maie Reade all at my ease,
— both of the Newe and Olde;
For a jollie goode Booke whereon to looke,
— is better to me than Golde.

The chanting of the prayers fills
The field and mountain with cool air.

O come with me, thus ran the song,
The moon is bright in Autumn's sky,
And thou hast toiled and laboured long
With aching head and weary eye.

O Boston wives and maids, draw near and see
Our delicate Souchong and Hyson tea,
Buy it, my charming girls, fair, black, or brown,
If not, we'll cut your throats, and burn your town.

Now would to God swift ships had ne'er been made!
Then, Sopolis, we had not mourned thy shade —
Dear son of Diocleides seaward sent!
Now somewhere in deep seas thy corse is tost
Hither and thither — and for whom we lost
We find thy name and empty monument.

We shall have no corn, no wheat and no barley; the wide fields are dug into trenches.
We shall no longer have sheep and kine in the fields; the fields are covered with corpses and ravens.
The trees are laden with apples and pears; they will rot and wither on the branches.
The youngest, the mightiest men stand amidst flames, there is no one to sow and plant and lead the plough.
The fields are covered with corpses and ravens — we shall have no corn, no wheat and no barley.