When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow -
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell in mine ear;
A shudder come o'er me -
Why wert thou so dear?


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When The Grain Is Golden and The Wind Is Chilly Then it is Time To Harvest

Leron-leron sinta, umakyat sa papaya
Dala-dala’y buslo’, sisidlan ng bunga

In a dusty village in Cagayan Valley,
Ramon and his father were planting rice when soldiers

appeared on their farm. They questioned his father,
if he’d seen any communist rebels recently

in the area, and when he did not give them
a good enough answer, they beat him with the blunt ends

of their rifles, shot him as he was lying
on the ground. Ramon snuck away but remained hidden

in nearby bushes, to witness the soldiers


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Wheels

Since I am sick of Wheels
That jar my day,
Unto the hush that heals
I steal away.
Unto the core of Peace
Nature reveals,
I go to win release
From Wheels.

Let me beneath the moon
Take desert trail;
Or on some lost lagoon
Serenely sail;
Win to some peak the grey
Storm cloud conceals . . .
Life, let me get away
From Wheels!

Why was I born so late?
A skin-clad man


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When Cold in the Earth

When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved,
Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then;
Or, if from their slumber the veil be removed,
Weep o'er them in silence, and close it again.
And oh! if 'tis pain to remember how far
From the pathways of light he was tempted to roam,
Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
That arose on his darkness, and guided him home.

From thee and thy innocent beauty first came
The revealings, that taught him true love to adore,


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Whats The Use Of A Title

They don't make it
the beautiful die in flame-
suicide pills, rat poison, rope what-
ever...
they rip their arms off,
throw themselves out of windows,
they pull their eyes out of the sockets,
reject love
reject hate
reject, reject.

they don't make it
the beautiful can't endure,
they are butterflies
they are doves
they are sparrows,
they don't make it.

one tall shot of flame
while the old men play checkers in the park
one flame, one good flame


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What The Dog Perhaps Hears

If an inaudible whistle
blown between our lips
can send him home to us,
then silence is perhaps
the sound of spiders breathing
and roots mining the earth;
it may be asparagus heaving,
headfirst, into the light
and the long brown sound
of cracked cups, when it happens.
We would like to ask the dog
if there is a continuous whir
because the child in the house
keeps growing, if the snake
really stretches full length
without a click and the sun
breaks through clouds without


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We Hail Thee Now, O Jesus

We hail thee now, O Jesus,
thy presence here we own,
though sight and touch have failed us,
and faith perceives alone;
thy love has veiled thy glory;
and hid thy power divine,
in mercy to our weakness,
beneath an earthly sign.

We hail thee now, O Jesus,
in silence hast thou come,
for all the hosts of heaven
with wonderment are dumb:
so great the condescension,
so marvelous the love,
which for our sakes, O Savior,
have drawn thee from above.

We hail thee now, O Jesus,


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Wave-won

To-night I hunger so,
Beloved one, to know
If you recall and crave again the dream
That haunted our canoe,
And wove its witchcraft through
Our hearts as 'neath the northern night we sailed the northern stream.

Ah! dear, if only we
As yesternight could be
Afloat within that light and lonely shell,
To drift in silence till
Heart-hushed, and lulled and still
The moonlight through the melting air flung forth its fatal spell.

The dusky summer night,
The path of gold and white


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Wanting The Moon

Not the moon. A flower
on the other side of the water.

The water sweeps past in flood,
dragging a whole tree by the hair,

a barn, a bridge. The flower
sings on the far bank.

Not a flower, a bird calling
hidden among the darkest trees, music

over the water, making a silence
out of the brown folds of the river's cloak.

The moon. No, a young man walking
under the trees. There are lanterns

among the leaves.
Tender, wise, merry,

his face is awake with its own light,


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Vesta

O CHRIST of God! whose life and death
   Our own have reconciled,
Most quietly, most tenderly
   Take home thy star-named child!

Thy grace is in her patient eyes,
   Thy words are on her tongue;
The very silence round her seems
   As if the angels sung.

Her smile is as a listening child's
   Who hears its mother's call;
The lilies of Thy perfect peace
   About her pillow fall.

She leans from out our clinging arms
   To rest herself in Thine;


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