Concordance

This concordance provides an index to every word in the poems, excluding a list of common "stopwords". It may be useful in finding a half-remembered poem, and perhaps in looking at the usage of words in the poems as a whole. It will be readable only on a large screen.

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W Y Z

M

, / / withered through the dog-days of

Macedon , / / through Rome’s opulent autumn, all but vanished / / in

Machismo / Man’s sex is a weapon, woman’s a wound. / / The whale was

Macrocosm / Look up into the night, but not to extend / / divine orde

/ a dreadful journey, sick and almost

mad , / / across the dreadful mountains to his home / / and found the

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

. / / North-north-west / / we are all

mad . / / Don’t fret / / that the tired nag / / stumbles, drags / /

Against Anorexia: For Cathy

ailure to care, / / his obsessive, his

mad drive to go / / on down the same old way, / / hell-bent to destr

ngland’s proud barque, / / her captain

mad , her crew in mutiny / / but bound in no purpose or unity, / / pl

/ and their mothers, cropping it, run

mad on the mountains. / / So to this house may I see Delphis bolting,

Spells and Love

were driving him and her mother nearly

mad . / / The neighbours say: We knew that she was dying— / / skin, b

house may I see Delphis bolting, / / a

mad thing, breaking away from sport and friend. / / Draw him, bird-wh

Spells and Love

eet she hurried down the hill. / / The

maddened father, fed / / by his own brother’s hate / / his own child

Pelopia and Thyestes

allad / At work she smiled. Resting she

made / / a bracelet braided from her hair / / to give her love, but

eauty, claimed to worship her, / / and

made a pass; but left her little moved. / / Next day she slept late,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the same? another? odd. / / The mirror

made a rude reply. / / There go I. / / There goes the grace of God.

one, the one and other half / / which

made a whole. / / They kissed, and hand in hand / / walked out toget

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ngs slip though. / / Change, knowingly

made , all right. / / Not, that’s not so good. / / Steve Davis knocke

The offering of his life / / had been

made and accepted long ago. / / A better might dare now go free, rejo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ephemeral, fade / / rebuke no promise,

made / / and broken—there was none. / / Beauty owes nothing: by havi

many the things I meant, and few / / I

made ; and much I dreamed is mine and lost, / / but some waits others,

one was at a distance, / / separately

made . / / Before I even saw it / / I trod right on the head, / / an

/ / forming from things which man has

made , / / but flight and court and hollow dome / / melt in each othe

And now he knew the love / / he’d been

made captive by the image of / / was true, and his beyond this last d

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

. / / The world is round, fortunes are

made , deeds done. / / The youngest son sets out with empty hands, /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ in the end / / shall find ourselves

made free / / to roam the pastures side by side? / /

[The grass in the next field]

/ and knew the supposed choice already

made . / / Freedom he’d half so longed for was now his / / total and

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ with its flowers, birds in the garden—

made her journal / / a sampler that does not fade. / /

Eugénie de Guérin

to him for that too / / and something

made her speak. “Those summer leaves / / are sunk to mud. How should

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

elf, turned slowly, and still slow / /

made her way up the hill again, as though / / heavy already with the

Pelopia and Thyestes

ked—if what they gave / / in truth had

made her what she was in truth. / / The Queen was beautiful, the King

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t, / / not that at least chiefly which

made him hesitate, / / and laying it carefully in the reeds at last,

f course it half / / annoyed him, also

made him more aware… / / But they were not the point. / / Long befor

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

d his joy. / / But unhoped chance soon

made him one with those: / / the princess wished to walk the woods; t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ouse. Hardly in him / / the force that

made him rise and struggle on. / / Then his glazed eyes (he might hav

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

pain. He lay awhile, / / but something

made him rouse. Hardly in him / / the force that made him rise and st

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

hildren. For him it was not so. / / He

made his way to the head forester’s house / / and found it, as he gue

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / But we must watch at last our self-

made image, / / when the sun leaves it, gather its own shadow / / in

Dream under a Carob-tree

knowledge of love, her rare / / spirit

made in the cradle one with it. / / Out of her thoughts she looked in

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

st / / he saw the little tunnel he had

made / / in the vast mass. It was impossible. / / He gave up. / / D

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ome a failing skill: / / am seldom now

made inwardly aware / / of the atrocious range of human ill / / by m

/ I could find it. I followed him, and

made it out. / / Six months ago above an Aegean harbour / / Jupiter

nd he made / / progress along what now

made itself known / / certainly for a way. But long neglect / / had

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / less what we made than what we’re

made , / / less dome and terrace than a tree. / /

not be, cannot be / / rejected or even

made less perfect by / / acknowledgement of our guilt, / / apprehens

lk R.H. On the Roman vault / / Adam is

made man in one image, Eve / / in another woman, for love. / / Love

ris spring / / and hope,” I answered, “

made me lighter-hearted / / —orange blinds, fountains, chestnuts flow

ing as I am all over for this man who’s

made me, / / lost thing, no wife and now no maiden either. / / Draw

Spells and Love

e. Mark them, lady Moon. / / At last I

made my mind up. I said to my slave / / “Thestylis, you must find me

Spells and Love

e, the living word, of / / poetry. She

made / / —of sewing, cooking, correspondence, the road to the mill /

Eugénie de Guérin

iffs above, / / shared toil and danger

made part of their dream. / / Then the hills parted, and the river ca

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ve stayed: / / what passion and labour

made / / perfect, what even chance / / left unspoiled. / / Advance

and that was / / (you said) relief. We

made plans. / / You felt I had failed you / / profoundly. I don’t fo

/ / the overgrowth was thinner, and he

made / / progress along what now made itself known / / certainly for

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

o reveal / / someone within. / / Self-

made ? self-murdered? blank as a solitary / / prisoner / / she is loo

ing back on it we see / / less what we

made than what we’re made, / / less dome and terrace than a tree. /

ightened him— / / all but swept off he

made the bank just. Quite / / spent, he could only drag his feeblenes

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

to the ford—be hanged the deer! / / He

made the peak, and in the evening glow / / gazed on the marvellous bo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

and that wall of rock?… / / Suppose he

made the shore… Those barren ranges / / climbing from cape and cliff…

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nged, merged, telescoped. The point was

made . / / The sky-ring sharp, unbroken, reached and reached / / behi

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ast, / / he reached it. Just before he

made the top / / he turned, looked back, and glimpsed, miles to the e

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the god / / and of the living precinct

made / / this beauty of scattered skeleton, / / desolation of shinin

Delos in Spring

/ man, woman, child. (The dying can be

made / / to stack and burn the dead.)” / / We have our orders, and o

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

d. / / Sex is everywhere / / as Freud

made us aware, / / and he was surely right / / but wrong surely to s

selves something / / other than nature

made us / / yet not to deny nature; / / to divine and follow reason

Madness Lies / / / / When first ghosts of our own begetting / / fo

That Way Madness Lies

om and slump / / disaster closed, like

madness on a dancer. / /

rhaps lemming-men / / have reached the

madness point, / / no return. / / Down a steep place / / with the p

Mariner of Kubla Khan. / / Soon Yeats—

maestro ed autore— / / Eliot, Auden, Ransom, Hopkins, the rest / / o

en. / / The dry moon hangs, skull to a

Magdalen , / / a mirror to the earth of beauty’s end. / / Among those

he tides race, / / Leif Ericsson, / /

Magellan , one / / seeking a golden fleece, a white whale, / / legend

place without legend / / but not less

magic . / / Blue thin brilliant dragon-flies, / / swallows’ acrobatic

Water in a Wood

God, and yet I pray; / / still less in

magic , but I practise it. / / At least I do not let / / the mirage o

nt as might in fairy-story go / / some

magic castle, leaving a bleak moor. / / We followed on across the dre

awares. / / Now I don’t need / / such

magic fancies. / / Any leaf which dances / / off its tree for me may

[Golden, red, brown]

Magic / Late in a winter night, / / a round high moon lighting the fi

n each other in the bitter wind. / / A

magic of the outer world, for him / / to walk in with his world of hi

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

, part keeps / / fingers crossed for a

magpie from the left / / (things at least of that sort). / / We only

one. / / Or the places alone / / —Taj

Mahal , Parthenon, / / Angkor Wat, Avila, / / Eiffel Tower, Pont due

wer of Paul or Plato, / / of Buddha or

Mahomet , God or gods. / / Paul’s song of charity I love, in Plato /

and more gone / / since we burned the

maid at Rouen) / / drenched the brush with petrol round the mountain

me, / / lost thing, no wife and now no

maiden either. / / Draw him, bird-wheel, draw him (you know who) to m

Spells and Love

ady Moon. / / —“He wantonly crazes the

maiden out of her bower, / / and the bride from her husband’s bed whi

Spells and Love

bed / / because he could not have her

maidenhead . / /

[Lancelot’s blood must run in Guinevere’s bed]

/ held up the tree. One branch from the

main fork / / was broken and lay level from a ragged end / / resting

Five Poems for Roni

noon / / was hidden. His direction was

maintained / / by the thorn-bastion only, which stretched still / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

. / / Romeo and Juliet, / / Leila and

Majnun , / / loving children / / cheated by a feud, / / sundered, be

kes me oddly now / / is that I have to

make / / a conscious effort to take / / the fact that, looking down

Climacteric by the Sea

/ “You know,” remarked my guide, “you

make a cross / / too easily out of your natural load” / / and added

surface of the secretive stream / / to

make a great poem. / /

Yeats and Water-Birds

that were so / / he must believe she’d

make a guide for him. / / He turned inland, thrusting through stiff d

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

re you thinking of? / / Would even you

make a joke of me now, dirty creature? / / Strew them on, and say “Th

Spells and Love

we / / have left ourselves a chance to

make / / a second choice in time, would be / / a bet I’d hardly care

Mother’s Malison

t Love’s hand / / they did not care to

make a stand / / against so huge an enemy. / / Towards that half-see

ve. / / Not much, not enough, / / but

make a start with these / / breathed from the stillness of / / this

e, fire / / twist in his hand / / and

make a suddener end. / /

for the wedding of Lucy and Garth / To

make a world all kinds aspire, / / all kinds are needed, but there se

would forget? / / Had you your life to

make again / / You would never meet—?” / / Ophelia to Miranda: / /

shifting mist. / / Robbers and dragons

make an easy dream. / / How can a hero find a way to fight / / needl

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

page? / / Sell it down the river, and

make another start. / /

/ / as equal powers. So Christians can

make Caesar / / their scapegoat. Might we, though, construe the stewa

/ up. I smiled down / / to reassure,

make contact with, the child. / / Looked into Down’s / / Syndrome fe

Ten Seconds on a Tube Platform

allowing them to be a bore. / / These

make for me / / your special power to bless: / / laughter and tender

Two Poems for G

Go down into the cave with Plato. / /

Make friends with Mammon, make Mammon your steward.” / / But who serv

hat might be. / / No, alone one has to

make / / (fumbling in the dark, / / measuring light against dark, /

ed city where this marriage / / should

make her life. Strange, and most beautiful, / / and frightening. Shak

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nothing. Now he’d journey far / / and

make himself a life, but not a new / / heart-life, since to the old h

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

w light on the praised steward / / and

make His answer to the priests’ spies’ question / / more than a trick

easons pass, / / must in their passage

make his own work good. / / Each time its task: cutting the undergrow

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

hard and living hard for once, / / to

make his way there and for once be free… / / Supper, bed, mother brou

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

arrel / / but learn (have to learn) to

make it up; / / learn blood (thicker than water) / / is not for spil

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

h Plato. / / Make friends with Mammon,

make Mammon your steward.” / / But who serves whom?… Well, there’s th

ls her to people. / / Caresses, words,

make occasional contact. / / And now the vision begins to mist. Hands

u a name? / / your tastes, that we may

make our house your home? / / What is your form, your nature, / / th

fusion. / / Truth, find us strength to

make our ways confirm / / and not deface its form. / /

Prayer to Truth

things / / mostly at variance: / / to

make ourselves something / / other than nature made us / / yet not t

ped another / / phrase in in time “and

make some life your own.” / / He sighed. Easy, he thought, for her to

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

eaking away for good, but thought ‘I’ll

make / / the difficult traverse to that bourne and back, / / bring b

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

moved the tiller automatically / / to

make the most of the recovered wind. / / The boat moved rippling forw

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

tual flights, less cold, less hard / /

make their deliberate bed / / than those that huddle to the bleak and

/ / against the day’s gloom / / they

make their own light. / / Hearth in a dusky room. / /

te, see me through to the end, / / and

make these spells of mine not a thought less strong / / than were Cir

Spells and Love

n, since that we are; / / and most, to

make those love-tides move, / / the sharper love that lovers share. /

were as sweet as honey. / / And not to

make too long a story of it, dear Moon, / / we achieved it all, came

Spells and Love

e and went, that come and go. / / Do I

make too much of not liking to be old? / / After all, I didn’t like b

Climacteric by the Sea

ot pretend / / that war is grand. / /

Make us remember that if this war is won / / the good we claim to do

Prayer to Truth

tter with the burden of the years. / /

Make viable our hopes and truths, stillborn / / the bastard misconcep

n cull, / / once wrecked the mind / /

make with the soul and with the sinews free, / / and all help, all ho

ast (at last) is easy. / / Not easy to

make work (we are all human) / / but easy to agree necessity of. / /

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

ind to others and each other. / / Love

make you presently / / to those who call you father, mother, / / as

priceless blessings of the West / / to

make your future viable, / / your ordered future. / / Hardly seen, /

d and went to bed. What is it / / that

makes an adolescent dream all day / / of warm companionship, friendsh

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

r own daughter’s womb.” / / One horror

makes another / / easy, makes heart and mind / / horror-blunt, horro

Pelopia and Thyestes

er morning. / / This clear level light

makes beautiful / / all the brick-grey desert, the swirling banner /

“Life is sweet, brother”

ing in it / / a blindworm urge to love

makes for a minute / / contact, perhaps; lost that, sinks choked and

d who barefoot down a pebble beach / /

makes for the sea. / /

/ One horror makes another / / easy,

makes heart and mind / / horror-blunt, horror-blind / / —a sword dra

Pelopia and Thyestes

elf in his own image. / / That is what

makes him, extraordinarily, man. / / But we must watch at last our se

Dream under a Carob-tree

ing been, / / being. Loss love as love

makes loss more keen: / / in us they live, and thus more living we /

Dulce et Decorum

less a truth than a disguise. / / Life

makes our life, for all we said; / / and looking back on it we see /

o greys, to silver, white. A light wind

makes / / the flat sea wrinkle, / / suddenly kindles / / stars, fir

September Cruise

hich doubles those, / / the gift which

makes them known, / / felt. But the figure on the other side, / / re

“Gale is Dead”

/ / barking about her, the poor child

makes tracks / / out of the temenos. Outside she came / / to silence

Pelopia and Thyestes

/ / Knowledge compels love. / / Love

makes us. / / Yet endeavour / / to loosen the child’s tether / / an

Makherás / Yellow daisies in sheets over the green grass, / / yellow

st, marking movements of the game, / /

making all ready for the King’s hunting. / / He walked drowned in his

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / perish) creates a world / / whose

making and being are. / / Days, years, man’s time-notes, are / / alw

[Time is enough]

/ / always perishing. Time / / (man’s

making ) is outside death. / /

[Time is enough]

ively the fact of love, instead / / of

making it a life or breaking free. / / One day she broke out—“But you

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

d. / / Love will be there and not need

making , / / light bodies lightly touching. Waking, / / the dream gon

ziness of hand and brain, / / and love

making no contact with the loved. / / We had turned North, for when I

eady. / / My shield (not its fault) is

making some tribesman’s day, / / picked from the bush in which I thre

Two Songs of a Mercenary

in tune / / how can there be / / the

makings here of a disharmony? / /

[I have (what seemingly you do not see)]

mlines along Ferdinand Street, / / the

Malden Road, and on until we trod, / / past and above the tramway ter

ays, other years, / / the King and the

male court alone had come, / / with princely guests, from the late au

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / The White Devil and the Duchess of

Malfi , / / Byron’s Juan and Marlowe’s Faustus. / / And gradually, a

fairy, but this one not / / thereby to

malice moved or bitterness. / / To Carabosse all things are ground fo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Malison / Industrious humanity / / (industrious as cancer-cells / /

Mother’s Malison

drew / / back as another voice said: “

Mama , no; / / there isn’t room for him.” And it was true; / / there

Horatius breasting the Tiber race, / /

Mamilius and Herminius dead—Black Auster / / gazing into his master’s

nd much more skilfully) / / here’s one

mammal that / / took off into the air, / / taught itself to fly, /

cave with Plato. / / Make friends with

Mammon , make Mammon your steward.” / / But who serves whom?… Well, th

to. / / Make friends with Mammon, make

Mammon your steward.” / / But who serves whom?… Well, there’s the jac

g on it, elderly, / / (my age) and the

man again “Would you like to see / / the planet Mercury?” / / “I wo

he shadowed parapet / / where leaned a

man against the light and drew. / / I looked across his arm, and havi

nd saw a little way off a bench, / / a

man and a woman sitting on it, elderly, / / (my age) and the man agai

/ / that in that case as in this / / (

man and dinosaur) / / it is some built-in device, / / some failsafe

What goes up must come down

/ / equally dreadful, yet / / I love

man and his dream. / /

d herd / / to sink without trace. / /

Man and his dreams dead. / /

rpeville / This woman, this child, this

man ; / / and there; and here; these many in this dust / / dead. All

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

death’s); but man in time / / (though

man , and with man his time, / / perish) creates a world / / whose ma

[Time is enough]

Man and woman constantly (are we not?) / / are constipated or cursing

season-sloughing mother. / / Child of

man and woman, / / slow from the womb coming, / / sleeping curled up

ller / / (the youngest son, the chosen

man ) / / at last suddenly across an unmarked border, / / thralled by

Los Altos Hills

Gela among the white / / wheatlands; a

man at need / / good in fight / / —witness the hallowed field of Mar

Aeschylus’ Epitaph

here. / / The diapason closing full in

man / / breaks down in discord. God must start again. / / Larch, gor

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

said, whether it was a woman / / or a

man , but all the evening he kept calling / / for unmixed wine for a t

Spells and Love

hat is what makes him, extraordinarily,

man . / / But we must watch at last our self-made image, / / when the

Dream under a Carob-tree

lends unnecessary / / noise to a dead

man / / by marks on this dumb stone. / /

oes bad… / / one would think. But this

man / / can create his own star. / / Jailbird, killer?… martyr-saint

kill. / / Nature is much to wreck, but

man can do it / / and, part of what we ruin, we shall rue it. / /

ill.” / / Nature is much to wreck, but

man can do it. / / Barbarian or Greek, Gentile or Jew, it / / comes

h Wright / Nature is much to wreck, but

man can do it— / / his greatest and last proof of power and will— /

ill.” / / Nature is much to wreck, but

man can do it. / / Now we begin into clear space to spew it, / / thi

r and broken in his heart, / / the old

man carved by candlelight / / behind a locked door, hitting / / reca

ges himself at labour and at play. / /

Man creates himself in his own image. / / That is what makes him, ext

Dream under a Carob-tree

crucifix. / / Form of the sacrificial

Man , / / drained of urgency and pain, / / timeworn image, will not f

Stray Thoughts at a Wedding

in it / / might he mature into a wiser

man ? / / Feminist, reading this, do not resent / / the unacceptable

Greenham Common

now My Inner Man / I, who know my inner

man / / for a sensual puritan, / / the puritan in history / / and t

I, Who Know My Inner Man

to him.” / / Thanks. They’ve taken her

man for the army though.” / / “My brother’s been called and I’ll be g

/ The extraordinary process of becoming

man / / forces us out of nature, to upset, / / fight, break nature,

n. / / She grew up, and married / / a

man from Lynn. / / But whether with the green / / the memory / / of

The Green Children of Woolpit

st find me the cure for this. / / That

man from Myndus has got me, soul and body. / / You go and watch by Ti

Spells and Love

ue it. / / The world’s our wilderness.

Man fumbles through it, / / blind Oedipus constrained to rape and kil

me / / saw life begin. / / Beetle and

man , / / grass and cedar, climbed to complexity / / from cells forme

, / / since he could never wholly be a

man , / / happily have remained / / an air-and-water-wandering swan?

ording it so long / / (far longer than

man has done). / / Whatever it was it was irreparable. / / Also inev

What goes up must come down

e images / / forming from things which

man has made, / / but flight and court and hollow dome / / melt in e

ay. / / One image. All man’s images of

man / / have him at work or at play. Man labours and dances, / / ima

Dream under a Carob-tree

one stumbles in the square-cut marks of

man / / having flatness enough for a small dwelling, / / hundreds of

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

us / Things aren’t what they were. / /

Man , having mastered earth, / / starves and poisons her; / / extends

man in time / / (though man, and with

man his time, / / perish) creates a world / / whose making and being

[Time is enough]

he head, / / and then I heard the dead

man / / how he groaned, and said / / “Are you a Turk? Trample me the

m / / being apprenticed to a tough old

man , / / huntsman and wood-ranger. Not quite the same / / he found t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ of dawn met on the lonely way / / a

man I knew but could not name. / / He said “Good morning”, I the same

I, Who Know My Inner

Man / I, who know my inner man / / for a sensual puritan, / / the pu

I, Who Know My Inner Man

/ Wanton brutality / / by all ages of

man / / in every age works on. / / Vision and thought, seduced / /

Man in Nature / for Judith Wright / Nature is much to wreck, but man c

H. On the Roman vault / / Adam is made

man in one image, Eve / / in another woman, for love. / / Love is th

haze which hides the rest. / / A young

man in the / / street was humming, whistling not / / very tunefully

/ / and nailed the window shut. / / A

man in the woven hanging reached for a nest. / / Each morning when sh

Eugénie de Guérin

dead, and the world / / death’s); but

man in time / / (though man, and with man his time, / / perish) crea

[Time is enough]

ng that counts. / / But as we live ‘No

man / / is an island’ or, if / / brine-girt by circumstance, / / a

hat flat edge of flat land / / a young

man journeying. A sense of loss, / / pain deeply felt. And yet, this

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

stopped him, smiled / / over him at a

man / / jumping up from the seat. / / Scolding the mother ran / / u

Ten Seconds on a Tube Platform

rrow in the flower-face. / / The young

man , knowing the power in his fingers, / / knowing the vision in the

f man / / have him at work or at play.

Man labours and dances, / / images himself at labour and at play. /

Dream under a Carob-tree

eauty of earth, skill / / of visionary

man . / / Man, who knows / / from nature how to kill / / and breeds

’s was the better part. / / How like a

man . Martha of course deserved / / better than such a knife-twist in

/ / “Be it a woman he lies by, be it a

man , / / may he quite forget them, as once in Naxos, they say, / / T

Spells and Love

o often too silly to / / be a wise old

man . / / Misunderstandings? / / That New Yorker joke: “My wife / /

ur orders, and our keep and pay. / / A

man must live. A soldier must obey. / / “Bombers, proceed to London,

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

ur orders, and our keep and pay. / / A

man must live. A soldier must obey. / / Strontium 90 we need perhaps,

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

ur orders, and our keep and pay. / / A

man must live. A soldier must obey. / / “That not the present only (c

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

ur orders, and our keep and pay. / / A

man must live. A soldier must obey. / / “You to gas-chamber duty at A

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

r wife waiting for you, your son / / a

man now and a friend, a few old friends. / / Between you you shall cl

/ / but for me, pretty Janet, the sick

man on his bed. / / I sit by him and chatter—not a word he’ll say. /

Greek Folk Song

aculous spring, / / summer and autumn…

Man proposes… / / winter’s carved boughs… and hark, how sing… / / Ma

Man’s Seasons

ll, you’ve been born before, / / young

man ,” she’d say. He crowed again and grinned. / / And once when a gre

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

od, since God is love; / / and love of

man , since that we are; / / and most, to make those love-tides move,

eye. / / If more of you can kill your

man than die, / / ours is the victory.” / / We have our orders, and

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

I’m handsome / / and trim as any young

man ) that would have been lovely. / / And if I’d got a kiss of your p

Spells and Love

ht, / / not the slain Son, / / God in

man . / / The Greek saw / / clearer, truer, / / when he knew / / lo

s first, think of these last: / / this

man , this woman, this child. / /

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

und the bowl. / / I’m going to bind my

man to me, my hard love. / / Eleven days, and he hasn’t come to me, /

Spells and Love

ner Hesperus carried me, / / a pressed

man , to serve a lifetime / / under the sail of poetry / / —the old m

urving clear, / / scattering diamonds.

Man was born to hope). / /

I lie. / / Friend, you’re a christened

man , / / weep for me, weep for me.” / /

arth, skill / / of visionary man. / /

Man , who knows / / from nature how to kill / / and breeds in his own

tten how many days / / you will meet a

man / / who says “That’s a funny kind of winnowing-fan.” / / Plant t

/ / burning as I am all over for this

man who’s made me, / / lost thing, no wife and now no maiden either.

Spells and Love

asts in Belsen. Stamp out the Jew, / /

man , woman, child. (The dying can be made / / to stack and burn the d

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

hat not the present only (child, woman,

man , / / womb-child) but all the chain of life within / / the egg, t

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

God’s? / / “Only the worldly-wise can

manage God’s / / affairs. Go down into the cave with Plato. / / Make

ck?” / / “My two unmarried sisters can

manage ours.” / / “You’re lucky.” “What about dowries? Call that luck

d much, and several days / / he didn’t

manage to bring down a bird. / / Three of his arrows landed in the se

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

by only as much as the other day / / I

managed to beat dear Philinus in a race.”— / / These are the springs

Spells and Love

her: / / water and air / / suffer his

mandate too. / / He’ll find it doesn’t do. / / Land, ocean, wind, /

tween that and the run of men? / / The

mangled reputation lies / / stoned, to be spat on as we pass / / by

as peur. / / … but the knife whips out

manhood , womanhood… / / Was she an angel? Can angels be with devils?

e of Space / “Faster, faster” cries the

manic queen “faster” / / to obedient Alice. / / The goal still flies

Curvature of Space

Prayer to Truth / You who are

manifest in reason and faith, / / mathematical symbol, artist’s visio

Prayer to Truth

t, / / stands crowned with gold and is

mankind . / /

h’s temperament. Just such a child / /

mankind appears: of knowledge insatiate, / / secret on unwrapped secr

Greenham Common

ast / / their time, their race—perhaps

mankind , / / featureless in a swarming desolation / / as light falls

e in two, / / the kindness that we owe

mankind . / / Wider than that, warmer than this / / the word I want,

/ / Or did he gratefully recover / /

mankindness with its gifts and pains, / / even proud perhaps to suffe

not resent / / the unacceptable words ‘

mankind ’, ‘man’, ‘he’. / / I use them in this instance advisedly, /

Greenham Common

nce advisedly, / / hoping faintly that

mankind’s temperament / / might now find itself worked by womankind /

Greenham Common

31’, / / ‘Happiness is a visit to the

Manly Fun Pier’) / / where the even motion of the Ferris wheel / / c

ent / Fish and chips under the pines at

Manly , / / looking across the small-boat anchorage / / to the sail-f

o the ranks, and the frontier-posts are

manned . / / The men to the ranks and the women to the fields, / / gr

Exchange / after a Japanese

manner / As it rained all day / / all night the rain is falling. / /

ite rose / / horribly lopped, / / the

manner of the loss / / and all that’s in them lost / / (incalculable

Die Weisse Rose

Heron and Gulls / The heron

manoeuvres its slow galleon-sails, / / writhes its proud neck, / / a

Heron and Gulls

/ lay quick with life, with love, with

mansoul . / / Now we pump back poison from our panic deathwish, / / s

Shelved / That dream, like

many another dream, / / is now no longer a what-might-still- / / be

ce in two dimensions or in four / / or

many , but can’t imaginatively believe, / / envisage them, because we

l be days, not enough— / / rather, not

many , but so good, / / so satisfying, enough’s irrelevant— / / after

[Golden, red, brown]

ry fire— / / grey rocks; bushes green,

many -coloured, dark. / / Once it blazed to heaven, this hillside, tho

t star and love? / / There must too be

many darlings of a season, / / more of recurrent moods, I’m forgetful

d the princess, / / the fated child of

many day-dreams’ yearning / / whom he must somehow save. The vision r

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

her on, / / weighed anchor, set sail.

Many days are lost / / through which they dreamed their way along tha

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ader and fuller out across a plain / /

many days more to sand-dunes and the sea. / / He knew then the two ri

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s / / and after you have forgotten how

many days / / you will meet a man / / who says “That’s a funny kind

. A life that might / / have filled so

many four-year cycles more. / / And on that twenty-ninth of February

im,” gravely said my guide; and I / / “

many have I honoured, many loved, but none, / / not my guide, more th

his tongue and look, / / feared by so

many , he concealed from her. / / (He turned them on the raper in the

Change Places…

is man; / / and there; and here; these

many in this dust / / dead. All these dead, and each, one, / / dead

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

ver little boy, Kenneth Clark, / / how

many lifetimes earlier, / / a fourteen-year-old countess from proud S

uide; and I / / “many have I honoured,

many loved, but none, / / not my guide, more than you.” He answered:

life has time to dream,” he said. / / “

Many , many the things I meant, and few / / I made; and much I dreamed

ime, / / and after you do not know how

many miles / / and after you have forgotten how many days / / you wi

re / / flashes of truth which pass and

many miss, / / but sensibility locked behind a door / / is lost—is p

ur / / knew all the answers and a good

many more, / / master of wickedness. / / After working some really e

. He may / / have stolen that lamb—too

many of them get lost.” / / “Why does he keep his flock so far this w

ugh, / / truth too difficult, / / too

many questions begged, / / undefined terms—‘love’. / / I fall silent

een) / / restlessness played on him in

many shapes. / / Today he eyed the coast between the capes / / and f

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

earth is and the sky a sphere / / —no,

many spheres; and all, the far and near / / wheel in one harmony abou

as time to dream,” he said. / / “Many,

many the things I meant, and few / / I made; and much I dreamed is mi

Many things have to go. / / But swept out in that flow / / are other

ween my queen and me. / / I thought of

many things (most if not all / / true) done or left undone to set us

Caring / We are here for

many things / / mostly at variance: / / to make ourselves something

and back whole, / / improved indeed in

many ways, / / encrusted with the interest / / of road and parliamen

t the scene / / which nicely rounds so

many wishful stories, / / where boy meets girl again, and what has be

ble talisman—are free, / / first of as

many worlds as books, and then / / have learnt from them a view of hi

ugh. / / English (not, heaven help us,

many years ago / / —five hundred years and more gone / / since we bu

ll, quite well, from youth; / / years,

many years. / / How does it feel when they say good-bye for good? /

What Do They Feel?

/ Christl Probst, Willi Graf / / —so

many years lost / / (none more than twenty-five, / / Sophie twenty-o

Die Weisse Rose

have I forgotten Emily Bronte, / / so

many years my constant star and love? / / There must too be many darl

/ / the unacceptable words ‘mankind’, ‘

man ’, ‘he’. / / I use them in this instance advisedly, / / hoping fa

Greenham Common

even remembered, warms and sings. / /

Man’s acts and sufferings seem / / equally dreadful, yet / / I love

inth, though, was a child yet, / / and

man’s an infant still in earth’s life-span. / / If he doesn’t burn th

Greenham Common

ut powerless and grotesque / / where a

man’s arm should spring. / / Would he then, / / since he could never

elieving prayer: / / not to play blind-

man’s -buff with death. / / Each year requires another year / / to fi

r and firm and white, / / formed for a

man’s delight, / / lovely and unaware, / / he watched her kneel and

Pelopia and Thyestes

/ / Shoot when you see the white of a

man’s eye. / / If more of you can kill your man than die, / / ours i

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

gh / / herself were in despair / / at

man’s failure to care, / / his obsessive, his mad drive to go / / on

that lump of childish lead / / (and a

man’s framework croaks towards death, in bed / / above the scavenged

One time, one way. / / One image. All

man’s images of man / / have him at work or at play. Man labours and

Dream under a Carob-tree

, are / / always perishing. Time / / (

man’s making) is outside death. / /

[Time is enough]

a different light. They whisper / / to

man’s mind half-intelligible truths / / from inconceivable distances.

Man’s Seasons / The lines recur, the poem closes. / / Once more the s

Man’s Seasons

carved boughs… and hark, how sing… / /

Man’s seasons, though, link in no ring / / but join two points as Tim

Man’s Seasons

Man’s sex is a weapon, woman’s a wound. / / The whale was created to

making and being are. / / Days, years,

man’s time-notes, are / / always perishing. Time / / (man’s making)

[Time is enough]

e or track / / he didn’t love and have

mapped in his mind, / / pine for in what he smiled at as our ‘wood’.

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ght / / —witness the hallowed field of

Marathon , / / witness the long-haired Mede. / /

Aeschylus’ Epitaph

and in a little while was dead. / / On

marble and gilded bronze the sun is burning / / by the laughing sea.

Gunnar of Lithend

ght Acropolis / / listening / / among

marble and moonlight. / /

omen, / / a ring of men dancing on the

marble circle / / where they had laboured with heavy flails, beating

Dream under a Carob-tree

/ for another purpose. / / Marvellous

marble hidden, / / the slums hidden behind, down in their valley / /

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

nds / / imagination’s competence. / /

Marble in sun burning like snow. / / Green, violet, scarlet, scattere

Delos in Spring

tue underneath the stays / / waited in

marble innocence: / / a light such as in Paradise / / flowed from th

John Ruskin’s Wedding Night

ill rooted in the quarry rock, / / the

marble mountain. He lies below the face / / they chiselled back to fr

September Cruise

them were all / / plaster painted for

marble . These gave way / / and gold and ivory shatter in the fall. /

Against Pedestals

Homage / Moonlight transfigures

marble . / / When I think of that beauty / / I think of Richard Hughe

locked door, hitting / / recalcitrant

marble , whittling / / the brute block back towards the palpable visio

ad Son on her knees, / / white-glowing

marble wrought / / to perfect intricacy of draperies, / / perfection

here the sordid alleys of the poor / /

march with the sordid, ill-rich city, on / / towards Chancery Lane, b

ent moods, I’m forgetful of: / / De la

Mare very early, Christina, the other Emily / / —trees specially sacr

m (you know who) to my house. / / This

maresbane grows in Arcadia, and all the foals / / and their mothers,

Spells and Love

d not paint in French exclusively; / /

Margot Fonteyn dances at Sadler’s Wells / / and Sally Gilmour at the

Mariana in Miniature / She waited for him, waited. / / He did not com

Mariana in Miniature

hile Angelo / / nevermore touched poor

Mariana’s skin, / / nun Isabella, curdling from the sin, / / was paw

ahead of L’Allegro / / as The Ancient

Mariner of Kubla Khan. / / Soon Yeats—maestro ed autore— / / Eliot,

Ours the open / / grace of a question

head, clear, utterly free / / from any

mark , almost like a child’s. / /

, / / the Black Knight of the Question-

Mark , / / and with him Fear… and in the dark / / against them, sole

-skelter. Of the year’s / / pattern we

mark flash off, flash on, / / the signal-lights repassed, of tears /

on old dry driftwood from the high-tide

mark . / / He ate, and watched the sun change on the wave, / / and in

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ would sail perforce upon some other

mark — / / her fated prince, a hundred years away. / / The rains of s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

sudden thinning of the wood / / should

mark him near the castle. Then he knew. / / He hurled himself against

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ears his spirit day and night / / they

mark his bondage to a dream. / /

/ / Plant the oar in the ground, / /

mark out a temenos, build an altar, sacrifice / / there to Him of the

’s sake alone, / / his mind content to

mark the cliffs and beaches / / scanned by the eye, the seen one with

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ing? Can you cut flowing / / water, or

mark the moments of the wind? / / Is it the wind, is it love, saying

Winter Solstice

/ / to the princess bending intent to

mark / / the toils and triumphs of her slighted slave. / / How could

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / About half way, near Lycon’s, who should pa

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —“And if you had let me in (and they say I’

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —and Theumaridas’ old Thracian nurse (she’s

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —“and when you see he’s alone, give him a s

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / At last I made my mind up. I said to my sla

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —“But as it is, I owe thanks first to the C

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / He looked at me, the rake, then lowered his

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —“He wantonly crazes the maiden out of her

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / I saw him, and my wits left me. My wretched

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —“I was coming, by sweet Love’s self I swea

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / —I went colder than snow all over. A drench

Spells and Love

/ / These are the springs of my love.

Mark them, lady Moon. / / My colour faded—sallow as a dead leaf. / /

Spells and Love

/ darker and hard on the bright water,

marked / / the end of seen and known. His eyelids dropping / / again

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

passes, / / brings fear to the Tuscan

market -place. / / A little later came Kipling’s ballads: / / two men

ck / / and forth. The trader found his

markets grow. / / Friendship joined hands there. And the singular glo

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

of Anne Frank’s wall / / —her pin-ups,

marking her strip of that confined world / / the house behind the hou

Hermes of Olympia

r. Work was traversing / / the forest,

marking movements of the game, / / making all ready for the King’s hu

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ys out over the dark smooth water, / /

marking my place to turn. / / I stood beside it. Wrinkling fading pet

e buoy-lights of the planets float / /

marking the charted darkness where / / (a channel for the silver boat

body she’d / / wipe it down the wall,

marking the snail-course / / of her sentence. A calendar. / /

War-time Anecdote

eaken, flicker, vanishes / / in night,

marking the unseen edge, / / the moon’s dark circle / / which joins

September Cruise

ock / / one stumbles in the square-cut

marks of man / / having flatness enough for a small dwelling, / / hu

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

essary / / noise to a dead man / / by

marks on this dumb stone. / /

Duchess of Malfi, / / Byron’s Juan and

Marlowe’s Faustus. / / And gradually, a peak behind hills / / that r

could not / / endure the image of her

marriage -bed / / any more than his own; and though not blind / / to

here, / / but it was, so is. Even that

marriage had been / / a marriage. / / So, as the mists came up and c

“Tell Lady Byron…”

? / / Well, she was his wife, / / and

marriage is inexplicably but undeniably / / a special relation. It ca

“Tell Lady Byron…”

gave her the sea-lapped city where this

marriage / / should make her life. Strange, and most beautiful, / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

is. Even that marriage had been / / a

marriage . / / So, as the mists came up and choked / / that very fier

“Tell Lady Byron…”

is sister’s skin. / / She grew up, and

married / / a man from Lynn. / / But whether with the green / / the

The Green Children of Woolpit

nearly lost. / / The girl grew up and

married a young groom / / in the King’s stables. To their eldest daug

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Greek Folk Song / All the girls get

married , and likely lads they wed, / / but for me, pretty Janet, the

Greek Folk Song

anyone’s plate. / / I’d be afraid if I

married her / / my children would be like the bitch’s litter / / —bo

oing soon / / —have to put off getting

married .” “It’s a hard life. / / Why can’t the bastards leave each ot

in our house who’s quite ready / / to

marry , a pretty girl, just right for you.” / / That was what she said

/ —something like that will do. As for

marrying , / / we’ll talk about that again when your mourning / / is

esert shows through flaking green. / /

Mars might have been, / / perhaps was, / / watered, sown, / / is de

Over There, / / faster to the moon, to

Mars , / / to a peradventure satellite (faster, faster) / / of Alpha

Curvature of Space

/ his bottles full of the near-brackish

marsh - / / water—the mountain-water, sweet and clean, / / was gone b

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s the better part. / / How like a man.

Martha of course deserved / / better than such a knife-twist in the h

he Two Ways / Jesus, digesting the meal

Martha served, / / pronounced that Mary’s was the better part. / / H

y sat and drank all he could give. / /

Martha was tired and cross and so to blame. / / (I speak as a fast-dy

I hoped no more for Anabel, / / when “

Martin ” from the shadow of a tree / / came clear. Clean from my heart

these judgements are untrue) / / this

Martin Luther, dead and gone, / / alive saw something he must do / /

Thoughts on the Lavatory

wars, quarrels or waitings cease. / / “

Martin ” she said, “how goes your pilgrimage?” / / No remembered, no m

ury / / took her cliff-top walk at Cap

Martin / / with a clever little boy, Kenneth Clark, / / how many lif

e his own star. / / Jailbird, killer?…

martyr -saint? / / Just such fatal polarities, / / false as this, his

in will, are that in deed. / / … Fire…

martyrdom … Fine words. Bend your mind back / / to these whom white me

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

troy themselves and all. / / Sparks? A

martyr’s blood falls as seed, / / and these, if not in will, are that

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

cs have their dream / / —Utopia or the

martyr’s palm— / / The chatterers have their sound, the beautiful /

eats, Housman, / / Milton (L’Allegro),

Marvell , Donne / / (Go and catch a falling star), Border Ballads, /

d in the evening glow / / gazed on the

marvellous bonfire, which with her / / he’d seen a green sea, which s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nstrably / / for another purpose. / /

Marvellous marble hidden, / / the slums hidden behind, down in their

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

wonderful, and the much-used blade / /

marvellously fresh and keen—it was not that, / / not that at least ch

Mary and Elizabeth / / each in her palace-cell alone / / notching up

h a knife-twist in the heart. / / Rapt

Mary sat and drank all he could give. / / Martha was tired and cross

who are sped crave your praying / / of

Mary’s Son, by His good willing, / / that we may share in His blessin

Villon’s Epitaph

eal Martha served, / / pronounced that

Mary’s was the better part. / / How like a man. Martha of course dese

x it irremovably, / / till where’s the

mask and where’s the face? / / Yet, turning to ourselves again, / /

returns the / / image of your face as

mask , / / closed eyes swollen. / / Snow under grey cloud. / / Monoc

eing? / / Each of us sometimes wears a

mask , / / most of us often. Such as he, / / taking up their ungratef

air curves in a cunning fall / / round

masked skin. / / Only the fixed brown eyes seem to reveal / / someon

Bicycle Ride / In front a black cloud

masks the sky. / / Behind me the sun’s levelling beam / / illuminate

greeting each other / / with a kind of

masonry , / / subtly apart, the old. / / I know I am not a child. /

Climacteric by the Sea

Masque / Cornered in the bewildering night / / Love summoned Dignity

haps were the border of the worlds / /

masquerading behind the notice. / / We walked together back under the

Los Altos Hills

/ / lost in the cheers of the domestic

mass / / as they drew still, and out the welcomed pair / / stepped i

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ more gleaming wonders leap from the

mass : / / Catullus, Villon, Aeschylus, The Song of Roland, / / Leopa

strands now. He took it. / / A clotted

mass fell clear, / / a natural tunnel from the other side / / opened

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

He hurled himself against the armoured

mass / / hardly in hope (even though unexpressed) / / to break its s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

tle tunnel he had made / / in the vast

mass . It was impossible. / / He gave up. / / Deeper in the thorn, a

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / across a tram-wire mesh, we met a

mass / / solemn in a procession, led by one / / whose fierce, dark l

cups / Low to the grass—tall, branching—

massed together, / / a wash of gold across the water-meadows. / / Li

/ which shrieked against the straining

mast and stays. / / The water whitening under the black gale / / was

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

w bright and brave / / the flag at the

mast head / / goes last under the wave. / /

Five Poems for Roni

the oaks, he found / / the undergrowth

master again. The noon / / was hidden. His direction was maintained /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

, rare as trees. / / The sun, the hard

master , brooks no mist. / / Where are streams and drenched woods? Whe

Varangian in Mickelgard

e? / / Love’s grand illusion ‘Love can

master Fate’. / / His light should dissipate the looming dark, / / w

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

crossing Caesar? / / No. The steward’s

master is God, not Caesar. / / From the good city bravely back old Pl

t / / eyes on the work, the worshipped

master knew. / / Past intellectual truth or visual beauty / / yet bo

d mercy, so go pray. / / Prince Jesus,

Master of everything, / / do not deliver us to Hell’s king / / —not

Villon’s Epitaph

the answers and a good many more, / /

master of wickedness. / / After working some really evil twist / / a

t reason. / / Still, might perhaps the

master potter-painter / / like to have known his handiwork seen, / /

s on Him this steward / / tried on his

master ?… Render unto Caesar… / / Perhaps there’s some thought links s

stency / / dazzle me. / / That narrow

master shan’t dictate / / my answers to the mystery. / / Good unbeli

limbs again / / in this new element to

master . Then / / glowing picked up his bow and with sure eye / / sho

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

and anger, / / but still the king, his

master to be obeyed. / / “Toss it in the lake,” He went back to the l

and grease (rooms over shops) / / rude

Master Tom’s and prim Miss Betty’s hops. / /

La Fontaine et le Déluge

tiful and it was his master’s, / / his

master was dying, the bright circle was broken, / / withdrawn all bri

e sword in his hands. / / The king his

master was dying, this was his sword, / / the sword was beautiful and

e as steward / / he tried to cheat his

master ? Were I God’s / / (if I believed in God), were I His steward /

hands / / inexorably drawn / / moves

mastered by an inner law, / / a narrow supple vixen on quick black pa

aren’t what they were. / / Man, having

mastered earth, / / starves and poisons her; / / extends his firman

or so later and far below / / darkness

mastered him, every muscle aching, / / where the cleeve widened to th

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

n to teach / / the basic skills; those

mastered , knew the pride / / of deeper skill. He almost lived afloat.

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s attack / / turned, its wild movement

mastered —so / / there, not there, the trained current shall go. / /

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

ght his heart / / within the door, and

mastering it in part / / moved, hesitated, afraid to break the charm.

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ the sixth (small like the others) a

masterpiece / / of shaping and drawing. / / These were lifted from a

rsonal intellects endure / / we remain

masters of our worlds; the river / / reflects the moon between our ey

, am ever, in your converse blest / / —

masters of the impurest of the arts / / which is for me (perhaps for

dead—Black Auster / / gazing into his

master’s face / / while the grey horse whirls through wolf-wild passe

the sword was beautiful and it was his

master’s , / / his master was dying, the bright circle was broken, /

to believe God / / will have me on the

mat / / to tell Him and myself / / everywhere I went wrong. / / The

A Hot Bath at Bedtime

her quivering pool. / / It was a love-

match (though most suitable) / / yet he was frightening too—yet comfo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ Great Hera, much ill-treated by your

mate / / most human of the gods and most abused / / was it not natur

/ other than alone. / / They meet to

mate , then share / / nurture of the young, / / yet in that loving ca

e. / / No doubt compounded of the same

material / / as others are, yet there’s a difference. / / The forest

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ank further into fantasy. / / The hind

mates only with the stag. Plain truth / / placed him no better than a

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

are manifest in reason and faith, / /

mathematical symbol, artist’s vision—Truth, / / compel the twisting m

Prayer to Truth

stion ours? / / It matters and doesn’t

matter . / /

nature, its own) forsake. / / Does it

matter ? / / Aconite, snowdrop, give place to primrose, / / bluebell

eversibly packed / / to a still point.

Matter and energy / / funnelled through a point of not- / / being, a

erse). Or perhaps / / our time, space,

matter are not / / their own reality, are really / / a section throu

alaxies are only atoms / / of a vaster

matter (as the electron’s charge / / might hold a universe). Or perha

doesn’t matter that the world / / (or

matter much) and I are old. / /

kept their fixed course—where does not

matter / / now, nor under cloud or clear stars / / what wind casts o

/ the common ground we left behind / /

matter -of-fact with house and lane. / / O secret, o enchanted space /

[Seen from the hill the hazy plain]

Judgement / In this

matter of innocence and guilt / / we can’t win. We’re all guilty alwa

eld path home. / / Cold…colder…then, a

matter of moments, / / grass, brambles, everything around is white. /

the year are young, / / and it doesn’t

matter that the world / / (or matter much) and I are old. / /

do not sleep. / / Body, borrowed from

matter , to matter’s keep / / returned we know; but of the deeper them

Dulce et Decorum

ed the string, / / the only thing that

mattered —not to miss. / / Hardly a sport, but he was hungry, and / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / for these, question ours? / / It

matters and doesn’t matter. / /

will / / the heart become, and little

matters where / / the body walks—loved places round us then / / inte

Of course you will. But share / / what

matters with me (you will) as though I’m there. / /

A poem you may like to see

ep. / / Body, borrowed from matter, to

matter’s keep / / returned we know; but of the deeper theme / / —spi

Dulce et Decorum

Matthew / The scar-lips of the wounded wood / / watch the sleek sweep

e house and himself in it / / might he

mature into a wiser man? / / Feminist, reading this, do not resent /

Greenham Common

/ last-fruits of the primal tree / /

matured ineluctably / / to fall any time now. / /

In my beginning is my end

ther flowers, white and red, / / pink,

mauve , blue, but most yellow. The plain / / is streaked with yellow f

ched where they can the lovers. This is

lutions / / of earth and water and air

may be contained, / / may yield a possible future. / / Open-ended /

ud. / / But at such fêtes, that honour

may be done / / duly to deity, fine steers are brought; / / and by t

Pelopia and Thyestes

ad. / / Later there’s more of him that

may be heard / / from one who knew him in his exiled age, / / but no

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ But love be with you still. / / Love

may be, I suppose, / / as some have said, born blind, / / but when h

ier. / / We know too well how kindness

may be killed / / by carelessness. Have learned from that to care. /

[Yes, you’re right]

to our helplessness. / / All of which

may be so, / / but the likelihood seems thin / / and in any case we

Living and Dying

cle / Uproot the rich hedges that roads

may be wider / / that more cars may carry more carcase-ladings / / f

e will be changed but does remain, / /

may bear from wounds of spite and chance / / the scars but be itself

roads may be wider / / that more cars

may carry more carcase-ladings / / farther, faster, in their frantic,

g / / for noon or afternoon. Take what

may / / come—bright or broken day / / or dull. Though unreturning /

you / / but is a hope to which you yet

may come. / / If you dare live on, while the princess sleeps / / in

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

oracle replied: / / “Vengeance condign

may come / / indeed, but it must grow / / from seed yourself shall s

Pelopia and Thyestes

/ / Contrariwise of course / / death

may come sooner—soon / / perhaps, for better or worse, / / as indeed

[Now of threescore and ten]

nd blinds. / / Open your eyes, and yet

may come to pass / / your unschemed hope, as the new morning finds /

ou have improved patience / / patience

may comfort you in the lack of peace, / / itself may prove a substitu

dows. / / Like other things this year (

may , daisies, roses) / / late coming but, now come, here in profusion

May Day / Now May is here. The wintered senses wake / / to rack the c

May Day, 1986 / Reactors burn. / / Clouds of ruinous dust / / wander

suddenly and not even ash is left. / /

May Delphis’s flesh waste so in consuming fire. / / Draw him, bird-wh

Spells and Love

with us (or else / / ruining nature we

may destroy ourselves). / / But I am still / / thankful to know this

s tenure? / / where the harsh landlord

may distrain on all, / / the holding dissipate like sea-spray to thin

The West of Ireland

ay / / (if knowing no god in honesty I

may ) / / for charity. / /

ay that be true / / (indeed I think it

may ) for you. / / May you live free / / (as far as love allows) from

stranger / / what is your sex, that we

may give you a name? / / your tastes, that we may make our house your

flowers in April, hands seek coolth in

May , / / hands seek a pair of little breasts, two lemons on a tree.”

Greek Folk Song

slip in and slam the door, / / for we

may hate the tower of loneliness / / but still cleave to the tower of

rse were nothing / / —and Caroline, he

may have had a thought for her / / but one would not expect him to tr

“Tell Lady Byron…”

n through. / / God, if there is a god,

may have his reasons / / for what he did and will or will not do. /

od luck.” “But you can’t trust them. He

may / / have stolen that lamb—too many of them get lost.” / / “Why d

t trust, and a far-sighted steward / /

may have to sacrifice some bargains. God’s / / terms, His best friend

t a woman he lies by, be it a man, / /

may he quite forget them, as once in Naxos, they say, / / Theseus for

Spells and Love

m / Stephen and Judith / Love you have.

May he stay / / with you all the way, / / though not exactly as he i

whirl Aphrodite’s brazen hummer / / so

may he turn and turn about my door. / / Draw him, bird-wheel, draw hi

Spells and Love

on the mountains. / / So to this house

may I see Delphis bolting, / / a mad thing, breaking away from sport

Spells and Love

. “What are they?” “Sea-urchins.” / / “

May I…?” She laughed (gull’s cry) “To buy and sell / / love-presents

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ut that, can I stand outside time? / /

May I think, as I need to think, that because one / / existed so stro

s inexpressible spells; / / Sickert we

may in honesty allow / / a measure; Stanley Spencer’s vision tells /

shall be no use.” / / Dress it how you

may ; / / in plain words, what no one gave / / this child was love. W

“Gale is Dead”

eir peak / / and penances in convents.

May is here. / / The old remember and the happy store / / their memo

May is here. The wintered senses wake / / to rack the celibate and bl

/ forget his anger. / / And much good

may it do you. / / I don’t think you’ll get home a second time.” / /

your form, your nature, / / that love

may know the object of its thought? / / what secret force could gathe

ith, walks / / anywhere wilful thought

may lead. She looks / / out from the green shade / / passionately fe

Eugénie de Guérin

may like to see / Watching the children shouting in the pool / / a po

A poem you may like to see

person, thing and place, / / though we

may love it for / / (it seems) its own unique / / self—yet they part

e you a name? / / your tastes, that we

may make our house your home? / / What is your form, your nature, /

e, dear self, which you / / at seventy

may meditate on. / /

Thoughts on the Lavatory

rayer / / addressed to something which

may not be there / / and surely cannot hear / / nor, if it could, be

ir exit and their entrance so / / they

may not meet. / / Beautiful creatures. / / The pity of it. / /

ley. / / Redeem us soon. But while you

may not so, / / lay on our fever patience’s cool rime. / / Let us le

no longer stands alone, / / and anyone

may one day come / / to see the truth itself in ghostly stuff, / / a

That Way Madness Lies

t you in the lack of peace, / / itself

may prove a substitute for peace, / / a substitute for passion, for a

ill will. / / Destroying each other we

may quite probably / / wipe out nature with us (or else / / ruining

f which dances / / off its tree for me

may reach the ground. / / I have found / / a sounder spell. Our love

[Golden, red, brown]

poem attributed to Theocritus / Pelops

may rule his country, Croesus count out his money, / / Achilles outra

Shepherd’s Song

don’t weep at the play / / or someone

may say / / “He’s no self-control.” / / This respectable curse / /

lost. I came / / to tell you this. It

may seem little enough / / or nothing to you now, but it’s far from /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

g, or little. And I offer too / / what

may seem nothing or seem all to you / / but is a hope to which you ye

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ll elude your snatching / / though one

may settle on you unawares. / / Now I don’t need / / such magic fanc

[Golden, red, brown]

Son, by His good willing, / / that we

may share in His blessing, / / thunder of Hell fall another way. / /

Villon’s Epitaph

/ Yes, you’re right. Misunderstandings

may / / sometimes (we’re human) drift our way / / but surely we shal

[Yes, you’re right]

/ green sea foaming in cow-parsley and

may , / / sun-streaked with dandelion and buttercup. / / Light air li

chosen even better than they knew. / /

May that be true / / (indeed I think it may) for you. / / May you li

ads about / / from hawthorn-conquering

may . / / The buttercup’s purer gold / / puts the dandelion out, / /

posite sex / / (or even the same) / /

may think you mean them. / / England Suspects. / / If seized with a

elts this wax (O help me, goddess) / /

may this Myndian, this Delphis waste with love, / / and as I whirl Ap

Spells and Love

dola sunk or walkers not returning / /

may turn a casual parting to a last, / / though the night be deprived

“Gale is Dead” /

May we assign a cause? / / —who cannot be content / / with a cruel p

“Gale is Dead”

h cheating Him, our serving Caesar / /

may yet bring Caesar back with us to God’s / / service—what’s Caesar’

dreams. / / And, once met, one or both

may yet in fear, / / or bored, slip in and slam the door, / / for we

nd water and air may be contained, / /

may yield a possible future. / / Open-ended / / our future lies. Tha

/ (indeed I think it may) for you. / /

May you live free / / (as far as love allows) from jealousy, / / his

/ / across the greenness of the water-

meadow / / a grey steeple against a blue-black / / cloud mounting bl

[Released from cloud the low sun at my back]

/ Pass from the green brilliance of the

meadow / / into graver green of the wood’s shadow / / sky-chinked ab

Two Summer Songs

r, / / a wash of gold across the water-

meadows . / / Like other things this year (may, daisies, roses) / / l

The Two Ways / Jesus, digesting the

meal Martha served, / / pronounced that Mary’s was the better part. /

asure the amount / / this course, next

meal … The alcohol / / I wash it down with warms the soul… / / Sugar

/ A happening. / / Why ask what it can

Ten Seconds on a Tube Platform

ade other / / than olive, cypress / /

mean by a shadow. / / Am I this shadow / / beside the river? / / —g

Five Poems for Roni

ony knuckle] / Age’s bony knuckle / / (

mean fighter) takes me in the mouth, / / and as I spit another tooth

[Age’s bony knuckle]

truth / / though not knowing what they

mean . / / If our love can keep its faith / / there is a chance (chan

Winter Recalled

/ (or even the same) / / may think you

mean them. / / England Suspects. / / If seized with a laugh / / con

gs at least of that sort). / / We only

mean to say, perhaps: / / Reason’s steps / / are too stiff for life’

as love allows) from jealousy, / / his

meanest avatar. / / Love keep you kind to others and each other. / /

ch one guesses / / or fails to guess a

meaning , be the mere slicing / / across our world, with which they’ve

’ve no connection, / / of things whose

meaning is in those othernesses, / / outside our time-thought’s three

uncentred dark. / / Beyond forgets its

meaning like above, / / nor any place remains for God but love. / /

nce / ‘The enemy’ / / people say, / /

meaning Time. / / Enemy indeed he tends to seem: / / longed-for hour

Two Poems from a New Life

not allow / / analysis, or yield / /

meaning to the clever, / / but even awake I seem / / from the depth

Words from a Dream

ll / / if not impossible / / —rather,

meaningless . / / All are (should be) born equal? / / All are born di

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

eal still, now and here, / / than this

meaningless cessation I do not share? / / Autumn is here and lovely,

not die yet. And to turn back / / was

meaningless . He must go on. And then / / he broke through bushes out

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rring terror of the unfenced edge, / /

meaningless life; and love’s affirming faith. / /

own way. / / My spirit moves, as over

meaningless pebbles / / (which are not air, which are not sea) / / a

? Isn’t it more / / a medium? peculiar

means by which alone / / tridimensionality can realize / / a world?

to go. / / His elder cousin was by no

means plain / / or stupid, and was not averse to him, / / but—prince

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he said. / / “Many, many the things I

meant , and few / / I made; and much I dreamed is mine and lost, / /

g out, wheeling west, ahead, as if / /

meant for him, sent for him—omen, yes, and guide. / / The birds, the

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / the fingers of a princess were not

meant / / for needlework. She laughed at that and, clever, / / found

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

will come.’ / / “I don’t know what he

meant .” He came once more / / to the same beach. Then trudged, a wear

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

d by / / a thought: might it have been

meant ? / / I do not think so. / / Too much surely to hold you. / /

the centre with embroidery. / / She’d

meant it for the young wood-ranger, if… / / If nothing—she would give

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ant hour we sense / / all things we’re

meant to do and be. / / Through season and through circumstance / /

you will, / / the christening-sisters

meant / / to give her, if not all, / / much—looks, a quick mind, /

“Gale is Dead”

oved her though (as she loved them) and

meant / / well. She grew up dévote / / but kind and wise, with the w

Eugénie de Guérin

what he said. / / I don’t know what he

meant .” When he won in / / at last to land, he lay as good as dead /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

gotten / / by either party. “It wasn’t

meant ”’s a rotten / / excuse, doesn’t excuse. Spiritual blindness /

onfigurations, star by alien star. / /

Meanwhile my body, through my feet / / while I look up, points home,

reached the other side. / / He had the

measure of the sands by now. / / His feet were sounder, and he husban

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Sickert we may in honesty allow / / a

measure ; Stanley Spencer’s vision tells / / one need not paint in Fre

ice / / and plentiful. / / I need not

measure the amount / / this course, next meal… The alcohol / / I was

Measure / Uxorious the Duke. While Angelo / / nevermore touched poor

dominion outside time / / (when nobody

measures time / / time is dead, and the world / / death’s); but man

[Time is enough]

o make / / (fumbling in the dark, / /

measuring light against dark, / / light against prevailing dark) / /

rother’s hate / / his own children for

meat , / / learning the horror, fled / / … night and day, day and nig

Pelopia and Thyestes

simple and straight / / —she takes her

meat off anyone’s plate. / / I’d be afraid if I married her / / my c

ed / / him still, even while he limped

mechanically / / into the night of his third waterless day. / / He s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ome built-in device, / / some failsafe

mechanism , / / that hurries us down to drown offshore. / /

What goes up must come down

n / / I am my father or my son. / / A

mechanist philosophy / / conspires with science to deny / / the exis

Shadow and Substance

Marathon, / / witness the long-haired

Aeschylus’ Epitaph

t less strong / / than were Circe’s or

Medea’s or blonde Perimede’s. / / Draw him, bird-wheel, draw him (you

Spells and Love

em, because we can’t conceive / / what

mediates their being, as Time our own. / / Suppose they’re here: an i

ear self, which you / / at seventy may

meditate on. / /

Thoughts on the Lavatory

fourth dimension’? Isn’t it more / / a

medium ? peculiar means by which alone / / tridimensionality can reali

e forgotten how many days / / you will

meet a man / / who says “That’s a funny kind of winnowing-fan.” / /

Separation / When shall we

meet again? We do not know / / —can only dress our longing thought in

and their entrance so / / they may not

meet . / / Beautiful creatures. / / The pity of it. / /

me or not? Well, turn the page / / and

meet his parents on their wedding-day. / / Down the white hill-road,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

smile in the street / / or someone you

meet / / of the opposite sex / / (or even the same) / / may think y

life to make again / / You would never

meet —?” / / Ophelia to Miranda: / / “I have not said that.” / /

uide / / touched me; I shook my head: “

meet soon.” The boat / / passed down with the already turning tide. /

s are ground for hate, / / but here we

meet the other side—pity / / and love: “The spell is cast which must

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

to be / / other than alone. / / They

meet to mate, then share / / nurture of the young, / / yet in that l

d there found / / a truth she dare not

meet . Trembling and cold / / she wrung the water from her blood-clear

Pelopia and Thyestes

the oar on your shoulder. / / You will

meet with men from time to time, / / and after you do not know how ma

Meeting / Between two stations, two or three words and smiles. / / Be

later, nine or ten / / perhaps—another

meeting equally good. / / In the darkness I could not trace again /

/ like something palpable, veiling the

meeting / / of sea and sky, thickening, till only foam / / shone in

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ch knows no trough. / / Since princess

meeting prince cried, laughed “Are / / all tasks done?”, spells are t

End of Fairy-Story

. And the singular glow / / of lovers’

meeting was a thing it knew. / / On days of merrymaking they would st

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

moments passing—time / / moves to our

meeting with the starting, slow, / / hesitant, eager, delicate approa

ertainly disliking. / / But today / /

meeting your face suddenly, dark photograph / / in a blown-up snapsho

Hermes of Olympia

so many wishful stories, / / where boy

meets girl again, and what has been / / wrong withers inexplicably aw

ta’s / / mother (the flute-girl’s) and

Melixo’s came / / to see me early, Dawn pink in the sky, / / with lo

Spells and Love

nd hollow dome / / melt in each other,

melt away, / / Behind the images we come / / to the unarchitected tr

spring. / / “You felt the crusted snow

melt from your winter, / / the spring’s pulse in the chilled earth wa

t flight and court and hollow dome / /

melt in each other, melt away, / / Behind the images we come / / to

horizon / / from which a dozen greens

melt towards gold. / / Summer and I are neither young nor old, / / t

eyes adjusting, / / frozen memory / /

melting back to the beauty / / I now see. / /

/ Flying low / (for L) / Far down past

melting drifts of cloud / / remote and faint lies mother earth. / /

ding. But that image, as / / the other

melting images, / / is less a truth than a disguise. / / Life makes

eatureless scape— / / blues and greens

melting in each other, fretted / / with winking, wrinkled flashes—hel

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

or in the whispering of two alone; / /

melting mist / / or tough to outlast / / their time, their race—perh

r and season, wheeling / / through the

melting now / / in changing unchanging round, / / build the world wh

u, my warm love now, it’s our love that

melts / / the ice-cap on that love—its living force / / shifts into

[White foam sweeps]

now who) to my house. / / As the flame

melts this wax (O help me, goddess) / / may this Myndian, this Delphi

Spells and Love

usic is landscape: / / wide grass / /

melts to a skyline, / / dips to a stream. / / Landscape is music: /

Music is Landscape

le joy and pain / / from eyes and ears

memorial shadows fade / / in the truth’s presence. “There is more to

Tombstone / “In

memoriam …” / / Silence belongs to him, / / but somebody unknown / /

remember and the happy store / / their

memories up. The empty-hearted fret. / / The empty-bellied, the still

o a sieve, / / once the golden bowl of

memory . / / Age takes everything we hate to give, / / leaves us our

r nest unnoticed in / / hearts holding

memory along life’s increase / / (and outsoars too these wars no one

Dulce et Decorum

ssing moments do not perish, build / /

memory and life; the artist’s captured moment / / lives like a memory

Moment and Memory

is knot, / / envy beings empty / / of

memory and thought, / / of threaded mind and heart? / / No. Knowledg

ist’s captured moment / / lives like a

memory / / and, would we live, we must let moments pass / / to memor

Moment and Memory

ear, how clear / / its beauty in their

memory burns, / / seeming so near / / one step will set / / them ho

[Some exiles know]

live, we must let moments pass / / to

memory , form the phases of our life, / / not like the camera catch th

Moment and Memory

/ I feel my eyes adjusting, / / frozen

memory / / melting back to the beauty / / I now see. / /

ing / / the colours in the hangings of

memory . / / Not fear, not defiance, but consciousness that night / /

What Do They Feel?

Memory of Anne Frank / Orders / Röslein auf der Heiden / “Soldiers, ad

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

e lightly, thinly lie / / the veils of

memory , of hope and fear. / / Like a bird, like the wind / / they ta

The Lilies of the Field

/ But whether with the green / / the

memory / / of that country faded / / the story does not say, / / no

The Green Children of Woolpit

who live / / haunt as cold ghosts the

memory of the dead / / but warmly help and guide. / / Flash on our g

Prayer to Truth

s one by one lost on missed kills, / /

memory or instinct somehow kept his way. / / Utterly weak but unfever

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

it / / beside the great-treed miles of

memory . / / Seldom by that was the young prince enspelled— / / but t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ine through you,” I said, / / “with

memory that no despair can blast / / and beauty in the air till we ar

ry where the cold light poured / / and

memory the colours in her hair, / / and in my ears echoed beyond her

Memory / The shutter flicks; the fleeting moment stays / / pinned on

Moment and Memory

ge of her old / / face as she drew the

memory up, he saw / / the beach, the river, with those other eyes, /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

our pilgrimage?” / / No remembered, no

memory -wakening voice / / of childhood, but herself set out of age; /

/ the loved known dead. How much does

memory wane? / / figure and face and voice I thought I had, / / but

ter-wandering stone?” / / Her face was

memory where the cold light poured / / and memory the colours in her

world round me suddenly whiten. / / In

memory’s chest a drawer full of certain treasures. / /

pillar of fire. / / Tonight; intrusive

memory’s sudden force: / / chastity and desire, / / acts of childhoo

enty of kinds of pretty play / / young

men and girls can know and not go all the way / / —something like tha

, / / the will to flourish perished in

men and women. / / How have we come to this? / / Or have we? / / In

ancing, a ring of women, / / a ring of

men dancing on the marble circle / / where they had laboured with hea

Dream under a Carob-tree

k old Plato / / framed laws for shadow-

men . Does He (like Plato?) / / hope that, though cheating Him, our se

eeper on the other seat. / / Dirty old

men dream young and sweet. / /

/ the tall son whistled down; the young

men , / / East and West, brothers in blood; / / two men riding out ag

your shoulder. / / You will meet with

men from time to time, / / and after you do not know how many miles /

rother from us. Think / / that not all

men have an equal share / / of sound good sense and reasoning. / / W

Villon’s Epitaph

than out of joint. / / Perhaps lemming-

men / / have reached the madness point, / / no return. / / Down a s

ds (brothers)—gun and knife— / / a few

men killed. The break failed. / / Jackson was down too, killed. / /

ur work, not ours his pay. / / Brother

men , mockery here’s nothing. / / We all need mercy, so go pray. / /

Villon’s Epitaph

age-top, horse-backs, backs of stooping

men — / / one face: hers, lifted sleeping. So she took him / / once m

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t and West, brothers in blood; / / two

men riding out again. / / With Meredith at eleven, I think, or twelve

later came Kipling’s ballads: / / two

men riding through a death-sown plain, / / pursued and pursuer—the ta

/ public affairs drift by with public

men , / / self-seeking or at sea, one-tracked, one-sided / / or doubl

your mind back / / to these whom white

men shot for being black. / / Life’s all one colour, spilled / / bes

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

ct with the feeling heart? / / Knowing

men starving while the rank cigar / / perfumes the Ritz, my hands cea

divine order spun from the thoughts of

men . / / The dry moon hangs, skull to a Magdalen, / / a mirror to th

erness / / between that and the run of

men ? / / The mangled reputation lies / / stoned, to be spat on as we

the frontier-posts are manned. / / The

men to the ranks and the women to the fields, / / grease wiped from r

Villon’s Epitaph / Brothers,

men who breathe the air, / / who pass counting us where we swing, /

Villon’s Epitaph

blood and tears; wrongs beyond hope of

mending / / lie at the root of every decent life; / / those who sit

imensionality can realize / / a world?

Mentally we can hypothetize / / existence in two dimensions or in fou

er and her broken nose / / between the

men’s and women’s lavatories, / / I saw a tall girl, and not yet draw

Mercenary / from Archilochus / / / The spear is my rough wine, as it

Two Songs of a Mercenary

r’s Wells / / and Sally Gilmour at the

Mercury . / / Greatness perhaps there is; but I who wait / / invisibl

/ / “Would you like to see the planet

Mercury ?” / / I was tired, jet-lagged, half dreaming. Is it a dream?

“Would you like to see / / the planet

Mercury ?” / / “I would” I said. “I’ve wanted to all my life, / / whi

culted. And above the huge Pacific / /

Mercury last night. / / One long ago summer midnight in the Thames va

ockery here’s nothing. / / We all need

mercy , so go pray. / /

Villon’s Epitaph

pare us more harrying. / / We all need

mercy , so go pray. / / Laundered by rain we are pegged here / / for

Villon’s Epitaph

hood is not welcoming. / / We all need

mercy , so go pray. / / Prince Jesus, Master of everything, / / do no

Villon’s Epitaph

augh at our suffering. / / We all need

mercy , so go pray. / / We died by law, but do not sneer / / at the n

Villon’s Epitaph

/ or fails to guess a meaning, be the

mere slicing / / across our world, with which they’ve no connection,

/ two men riding out again. / / With

Meredith at eleven, I think, or twelve / / I fell in love—the only ad

Water in a Wood / Five terraced

meres / / dammed from a slow small stream. / / Black still water ima

Water in a Wood

dly features now in her bad dreams / /

merge with that other frightening frightened face. / /

Change Places…

l sleeping on a bed, / / then changed,

merged , telescoped. The point was made. / / The sky-ring sharp, unbro

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ssly. Until one day / / it curved off,

merging into mud. He found / / the wide mouth of a sluggish-seeming r

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

starboard lay / / a thin blue ribbon,

merging past unravelling / / detail of trees and harbour, city and be

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Merrie England / Don’t smile in the street / / or someone you meet /

Two Poems for G / Tender and

Merry / Lüneburg Heath / Tender and merry. Other things of course too,

Two Poems for G

and Merry / Lüneburg Heath / Tender and

merry . Other things of course too, / / But these are uppermost in my

Two Poems for G

ng was a thing it knew. / / On days of

merrymaking they would strew / / flowers in the road. Who gave fear a

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

the moon shone / / across a tram-wire

mesh , we met a mass / / solemn in a procession, led by one / / whose

fter these, / / treads in the slippery

mess , skids to her knees, / / gets up, her dress and hands dripping w

Pelopia and Thyestes

a dream it was not. / / These and the

message had been given him. / / ‘All right’ he thought. ‘The next tes

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

egan / / “I was coming, Simaetha. Your

message to bring me here / / was first by only as much as the other d

Spells and Love

erished and vanished / / taps us these

messages . / / Hearts flower in words, or works of hand and mind, / /

y. / / Home, he found fuss and news, a

messenger / / arrived, announcing the immediate visit / / of his kin

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

wild— / / reproach? Not so—excitement.

Messengers / / hot from the Court—the Queen and royal child / / expe

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

shone / / across a tram-wire mesh, we

met a mass / / solemn in a procession, led by one / / whose fierce,

ome again. / / His mother, waiting up,

met him in wild— / / reproach? Not so—excitement. Messengers / / hot

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

at you unmerited abuse / / because you

met his mistresses with strife / / but those who take with joy the lo

elper. “Each / / of countless currents

met in you has stood / / waiting too long. Oh, do not miss your hour.

d by night and in the grey / / of dawn

met on the lonely way / / a man I knew but could not name. / / He sa

book of his own dreams. / / And, once

met , one or both may yet in fear, / / or bored, slip in and slam the

white in the moon— / / that youth she

met so often in the wood / / who stood aside and fixed her with his g

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

eam. / / He plunged in where the water

met the sand, / / dropped in the shallows—kneeling, drank and drank /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

from the fields into the wood, / / we

met there sometimes—we?— / / at dusk, would linger… we?… they?… / /

A little shift in earth and air’s / /

metabolism . Bareness, / / water runs thin / / thin as grass. / / Th

saw a black smudge with a gleam / / of

metal at the prow. “A gondola; / / Laurence,” he said. No more than i

/ / cries—in all that sprang / / from

Michelangelo’s hand or Homer’s tongue, / / all craft or thought / /

Mickelgard / Woods, beech and fir. Water—always / / streams sounding

Varangian in Mickelgard

/ against the sun, but somewhere round

midday / / the wind shifted into the north, and he / / turned the bo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

one can be my ivory tower. / / I enter

middle age. / /

ng old / / so gather the roses of ripe

middle age.” / /

[The municipal building stood square in my dream]

the only ivory tower / / to build for

middle age. / / Being no fortress, neither is it a prison. / / Patie

oubled in Middle Age.” / / Troubled in

Middle Age—Did you really hope / / to find an answer to that one on t

nsigeant heart? / / Yours, Troubled in

Middle Age.” / / Troubled in Middle Age—Did you really hope / / to f

it on the beach or walk, / / young and

middle -aged / / and, a class of their own, in pairs / / or singly, g

Climacteric by the Sea

/ then tossed it flashing towards the

middle of the lake. / / A hand came up and caught it, swung it, a bri

e neither young nor old, / / the quiet

middle reaches. / / But something cries on / / in me, timeless and h

castle / / but above Pangbourne on the

middle Thames) / / dreams across the valley to Sulham woods; / / the

I sat contented at his feet / / on the

midnight Acropolis / / listening / / among marble and moonlight. /

/ walking home, a long cold walk, past

midnight , / / I found the whole world round me suddenly whiten. / /

ry last night. / / One long ago summer

midnight in the Thames valley / / I came on glow-worms. Years earlier

ished. / / So it was / / that just at

midnight , when at last the Queen / / felt pain crown her initiation’s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

st snap and my time stop / / sometime,

might a tolerable month be June? / / —with the rose light in the hedg

Sixtieth Summer

to do, / / work I owe to love / / and

might achieve. / / Not much, not enough, / / but make a start with t

. / / No spot there where a small boat

might be beached? / / Probably not. He looked along the plain. / / S

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

n behind, down in their valley / / one

might be far—but for the ancient cuttings / / (a road here rutted in

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

/ —burn every blade of grass / / that

might be green for him. / / Huge sound trembling / / through remote

nly joy to know I shall be he’— / / or

might be he… The doubt spread to eclipse / / the joy. But no. The fai

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

these lie outside / / my sense of what

might be. / / No, alone one has to make / / (fumbling in the dark, /

/ to study what I owe / / and how it

might be paid / / in part—a penny in / / each generous pound? / / T

s steward to Caesar / / which glimpsed

might both throw light on the praised steward / / and make His answer

de and accepted long ago. / / A better

might dare now go free, rejoice / / in a new land in a new love, a wi

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

m into the teeth of any pain / / which

might distract him. So with naked hands / / he tore at the barbed tig

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t never will) / / but just a what-once-

might -have-been / / (although you know it never would). / / And betw

tle still. To one not knowing / / this

might have been an uninhabited wild. / / Now, down the mountain throu

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

shows through flaking green. / / Mars

might have been, / / perhaps was, / / watered, sown, / / is dead du

for better or worse, / / as indeed it

might have done / / at any time before. / / Anyhow, with threescore

[Now of threescore and ten]

alf a year. / / Such loss. A life that

might / / have filled so many four-year cycles more. / / And on that

uggle on. / / Then his glazed eyes (he

might have gone a mile, / / two, fifty yards) awoke to the wide strea

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / no bright spark in your love that

might have started / / an answering flame in me.” “The Paris spring /

t burn the house and himself in it / /

might he mature into a wiser man? / / Feminist, reading this, do not

Greenham Common

t I do can’t help you / / dead. But it

might help them / / a little who loved you, love / / you, love me, l

r matter (as the electron’s charge / /

might hold a universe). Or perhaps / / our time, space, matter are no

mmer’s afternoon. / / With that ahead,

might I be content to sink, / / letting it dull my ears against the s

Sixtieth Summer

ir.” I shut the door. / / They went as

might in fairy-story go / / some magic castle, leaving a bleak moor.

e. / / I am haunted by / / a thought:

might it have been meant? / / I do not think so. / / Too much surely

faintly that mankind’s temperament / /

might now find itself worked by womankind / / towards a better-knowin

Greenham Common

own? Is that certain? / / Or after all

might patience, picking through / / the tangles, light at last upon a

r. / / Not without reason. / / Still,

might perhaps the master potter-painter / / like to have known his ha

anded / / his steps, but that hence he

might recognise / / the field of his last fight. But the dense floor

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

y heart, / / even today when the heart

might seem too heavy / / even for a heron’s wings, lifts it a little.

world’s an imperceptible section. / /

Might seeming happenings here, for which one guesses / / or fails to

pit of horror; and defeat / / by these

might sink us even deeper. Yet, / / losing or winning, keep us from t

Prayer to Truth

ope / / that chance, sown on the wind,

might somehow sprout / / in love. His love he dare not venture from.

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

her dream, / / is now no longer a what-

might -still- / / be (though you know it never will) / / but just a w

s can make Caesar / / their scapegoat.

Might we, though, construe the steward / / (a clever thought) as doub

r the hard victories of the way / / he

might , when all seemed won, yet lose the day, / / defeated with the f

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ll to virtue. / / Life is split like a

migraine : / / love it like that and let it hurt you. / /

he an eye on the strength of the Twelve-

Mile Post?” / / Billowing, settling, over wood and hill, / / now win

n his glazed eyes (he might have gone a

mile , / / two, fifty yards) awoke to the wide stream. / / He plunged

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ we lost our way about the twentieth

mile / / where hills broke to the sea, and ‘this is Greece’ / / I th

. / / And then, perhaps a quarter of a

mile / / within the wood, it forked. He paused, but checked / / his

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ / and after you do not know how many

miles / / and after you have forgotten how many days / / you will me

that rise or shrink as we move through

miles and years, / / establishing unchallenged supremacy, / / Shakes

softer-sanded, spear-grassed dunes / /

miles away to the rivers of Barnstaple. / / Later one lodged at Perac

r image: miles of sea-washed sand, / /

miles , days—crossed by a river hard to cross, / / and closed by cliff

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Learning from rangers, lost for lonely

miles , / / he knew at last the tracked woods like his hand. / / Late

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

e boy walked on the sounding beach / /

miles , hours. He loved to swim, and learned the tide, / / coaxed from

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

here isn’t / / a wise-woman’s house in

miles I didn’t visit. / / But time went on and nothing changed at all

Spells and Love

to you, and that all / / these gales,

miles , months cannot defeat love’s existence. / /

Two Poems from a New Life

ad found it / / beside the great-treed

miles of memory. / / Seldom by that was the young prince enspelled— /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

suddenly thrown / / up, a clear image:

miles of sea-washed sand, / / miles, days—crossed by a river hard to

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

houghts today. / / South up the coast,

miles to his left, a second / / and longer cape, almost sunk in the b

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the bright sea under it, / / and calm.

Miles to his left stretched the cold sands. / / With painful care he

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ he turned, looked back, and glimpsed,

miles to the east, / / the sea. He suddenly felt alone and lost, / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

He felt the fairy smile. / / Over the

miles , under the leafy light, / / at fork or cross-track he went stil

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

, / / get me on my feet again. Another

milestone . / /

sun’s high tree. / / Today the sea is

milk , milky blue / / hardly lined off from the milky sky / / except

September Cruise

through / / the bluish haze, / / the

milkiness . / / Above the dark harbour the crescent moon, / / and jus

September Cruise

high tree. / / Today the sea is milk,

milky blue / / hardly lined off from the milky sky / / except where

September Cruise

Two Serenities / Still morning.

Milky sea / / under a haze of pearl. / / A girl’s gaze / / absorbin

lky blue / / hardly lined off from the

milky sky / / except where islands lie / / hardly distinguishable th

September Cruise

ooking, correspondence, the road to the

mill / / with its flowers, birds in the garden—made her journal / /

Eugénie de Guérin

less tiny spark, / / one of uncounted

millions in a galaxy / / one of uncounted galaxies sailing space. /

Langland, a lot of Chaucer, / / other

Milton (flawed glory of Paradise Lost) / / The White Devil and the Du

tide was running: Keats, Housman, / /

Milton (L’Allegro), Marvell, Donne / / (Go and catch a falling star),

-balls of flowering fennel, / / yellow

mimosa . Other flowers, white and red, / / pink, mauve, blue, but most

r, if not all, / / much—looks, a quick

mind , / / a feeling heart, and one / / thing which doubles those, /

“Gale is Dead”

ion of those remains / / for me. Never

mind . / / A full, a whole time, / / a time shared. / / Wish the gat

ey were far from new / / did cross his

mind ) and dropped flat on the bed. / / Next morning, fit and fresh, t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nothing, listen for the post, / / when

mind and hand hold so much to be done?” / / I drank his voice and did

owers asleep. / / You have a sensitive

mind and heart, and store / / flashes of truth which pass and many mi

of memory and thought, / / of threaded

mind and heart? / / No. Knowledge of self / / compels knowledge of o

s in my mind] / I have you always in my

mind / / (and in my heart and in my flesh), / / The all but palpable

[I have you always in my mind]

ded stone, / / and stilled, emptied my

mind ; and then what should / / unlikely cross its stillness but the p

sery / / only the heart can tell / / —

mind and tongue break beneath it / / and die in doggerel” / / Mirand

vision—Truth, / / compel the twisting

mind and (what is harder) / / the twisting heart. / / See that in ea

Prayer to Truth

Fire… martyrdom… Fine words. Bend your

mind back / / to these whom white men shot for being black. / / Life

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

ads, for sailing’s sake alone, / / his

mind content to mark the cliffs and beaches / / scanned by the eye, t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

here, and I / / hugged you. You didn’t

mind . Death / / had happened, but was / / release from work, and tha

here she led / / followed, but half my

mind followed in Greece. / / “Such light,” I said, “and more the full

gh black mountain’s rim. / / But often

mind forgot the joy of eyes. / / Valley, col, valley formed his zigza

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

r, / / dangerous appeasement, till the

mind grew weary. / / I passed by each and did not pause to con her, /

erent light. They whisper / / to man’s

mind half-intelligible truths / / from inconceivable distances. / /

akes another / / easy, makes heart and

mind / / horror-blunt, horror-blind / / —a sword drawn on a mother,

Pelopia and Thyestes

wind / / an ill-latched shutter of the

mind . / / I glimpse out there / / a swollen belly, hollowed eyes, /

[I have you always in my

mind ] / I have you always in my mind / / (and in my heart and in my f

[I have you always in my mind]

where the houses pile, / / and half my

mind in Greece, among rocks, still / / clambered Hymettus. Suddenly s

I know, if ever / / your image came to

mind it brought / / a warmth of innocent pleasure, / / as mine surel

/ this clear shore.” / / No more. / /

Mind knows Time has closed that door. / / But still the untaught hear

and passion cull, / / once wrecked the

mind / / make with the soul and with the sinews free, / / and all he

How could such little liberty send his

mind / / on such an insolent flight?—the parable / / forgotten of th

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

y take breath, bearing no trace / / in

mind or eye. / / Glowing, drooping in spirit and in face / / momentl

The Lilies of the Field

w bad trouble, mind / / your troubles,

mind others’ troubles more, / / taking them seriously / / but not al

Two Poems for G

/ he didn’t love and have mapped in his

mind , / / pine for in what he smiled at as our ‘wood’. / / And yet,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he thought, an odd one, hung. His dull

mind played / / with its likeness to a sea-urchin shell. / / Traditi

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

dry, blaze against the wind again. / /

Mind shakes to see / / how fighting wind and fire can absolutely / /

Elegy for the Dead at Sharpeville

s flower in words, or works of hand and

mind , / / song and colour and stone, / / or in the whispering of two

e world was all / / before them. Never

mind the rent and stain. / / Enjoy life as it was before the fall: /

So why / / slave-camps, torture (body,

mind ) to compel / / blind, obedient conformity, the dreamed ideal /

them, lady Moon. / / At last I made my

mind up. I said to my slave / / “Thestylis, you must find me the cure

Spells and Love

things he had to say / / went from his

mind , water from a cracked pot. / / Pitying but irked the princess tu

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ Sight is silence / / without feeling

mind . / / We bring our own lights / / into this dark, / / and in th

Music is Landscape

ny and kind. / / You know bad trouble,

mind / / your troubles, mind others’ troubles more, / / taking them

Two Poems for G

Lopped / Like music heard in / / the

mindless wind / / nerve-ends murmur / / of a lost limb… / / fingers

red threads were woven through / / our

minds . But what brings you into my fray? / / You thought to breathe y

ess. / / I haven’t seen (only with the

mind’s eyes) / / those acres of heath and wook, free and wild, / / u

Two Poems for G

few / / I made; and much I dreamed is

mine and lost, / / but some waits others, and of those are you; / /

he heart. / / And heart and tears were

mine , / / as hand on spade in the alley-shop was mine, / / my feet s

nce / / is calling me always, and that

mine can call / / (bursts of song) back to you, and that all / / the

Two Poems from a New Life

as hand on spade in the alley-shop was

mine , / / my feet struggling from my own pursuing voices / / which b

they hold and bid me seize are / / not

mine . My soul cries (child) to stay up late—“Oh / / don’t send me to

the end, / / and make these spells of

mine not a thought less strong / / than were Circe’s or Medea’s or bl

Spells and Love

ide, not far from here, / / not one of

mine , or any of ours I’d say.” / / “A month ago… That’s what became o

a warmth of innocent pleasure, / / as

mine surely to you. / / And that’s a sweet thing to have knowledge of

a radial line… / / But between me and

mine / / the surface curves away, away / / and all across it play /

id, “your frescoes, all through you are

mine . / / Through you I have, such as I have, an eye / / for visual

ws cast / / shines still is yours, and

mine through you,” I said, / / “with memory that no despair can bl

ad omens according to our mood / / and

mine was sad today. / / I turned away / / and another omen rose in f

rain / / past wordy Westminster to the

mined sea, / / who know Scamander and the windy plain. / / We hold a

Causes / Children of the

mines / / on hands and knees in dark, / / weight of the roped truck

/ / you, form and soul, in this drop,

mingled straight / / from love’s well and the fountain of delight? /

rk brown, reds, golds, patched / / and

mingled , were a revelation to him / / of autumn. But he shivered—terr

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Miniature / She waited for him, waited. / / He did not come. She wait

Mariana in Miniature

s out with empty hands, / / harvests a

mint of luck in distant lands, / / returns… The youngest, not the onl

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ight. / / Stillness undisturbed by the

minuscule / / Fun Pier (‘Famed for fun since 31’, / / ‘Happiness is

/ a blindworm urge to love makes for a

minute / / contact, perhaps; lost that, sinks choked and chilled, /

ce settled down / / like a sea-mist. A

minute or an hour, / / a hundred years… Time, it seemed, had stopped,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

there, and shall descend / / in a few

minutes there again, / / knowing quite well that then, as then, / /

[Seen from the hill the hazy plain]

ght, / / even if it end, still by that

miracle is”— / / and then he thought of a pricked finger, of / / a s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

l. Yet Spring is still / / an undimmed

miracle , / / season of blossoming, / / season of blossom’s fall. /

[What words are there for Spring?]

at last, again / / faithless we find a

miracle , / / tender on the high twigs the green. / / One year, of co

/ (incalculable theirs, / / ours much)

miraculous gain, / / ours, theirs, does remain / / —the heaven which

Die Weisse Rose

e poem closes. / / Once more the still-

miraculous spring / / drowns as green summer settles in. / / Now fro

Man’s Seasons

e poem closes. / / Once more the still

miraculous spring, / / summer and autumn… Man proposes… / / winter’s

Man’s Seasons

). / / The sky is green. Hymettus / /

miraculously blushes, soon / / is grey again. / /

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

it. / / At least I do not let / / the

mirage of consistency / / dazzle me. / / That narrow master shan’t d

You would never meet—?” / / Ophelia to

Miranda : / / “I have not said that.” / /

in those of Ferdinand.” / / Ophelia to

Miranda : / / “I too knew the clear dawn; / / my bud was near to blos

and love is paradise.” / / Ophelia to

Miranda : / / “Life and love are hell. / / But the heart’s misery /

neath it / / and die in doggerel” / /

Miranda to Ophelia: / / “How can I understand? / / Life was a still

Miranda to Ophelia / / in pity and surprise: / / “What are those wri

nd left me / / broken and alone.” / /

Miranda to Ophelia: / / “Then you would forget? / / Had you your lif

/ indissolubly long / / and cast its

mirror -image / / against the clouds ahead: / / a heaven to be happy

ngs, gold, simple design; / / a bronze

mirror , its shine a roughened green / / but on the back still, delica

would find his life…” Is this / / too

mirror -land? / /

Through the Looking-Glass

/ / —the same? another? odd. / / The

mirror made a rude reply. / / There go I. / / There goes the grace o

s. / / Nature’s brutal economy holds a

mirror / / to human doing, / / unflattering / / comparison / / to

Heron and Gulls

moon hangs, skull to a Magdalen, / / a

mirror to the earth of beauty’s end. / / Among those sparklers, set l

e after-knowledge sets tomorrow / / to

mirror yesterday—images which empty / / the moment’s brimming being.

e quickly still. Again seen / / in the

mirror’s tinted grey—leaf-greens, / / white birch-trunks, blue sky ca

Water in a Wood

/ lent us to hunt a monster with, / /

misborn into a crueller myth / / we use against our mother’s life. /

Miscarriage / / / Blood seeps from a womb / / yesterday. Today / /

and truths, stillborn / / the bastard

misconcepts , falsehoods and fears. / / And though with age’s oncoming

/ seems to take) / / stacked with our

miscreations , which by one / / choice, by one mistake, / / can leave

s / / (and dark past draped glass, Les

Misérables ). / / Then, 1870. / / Sedan, Paris besieged, France lost,

orched my heart’s earth / / retreating

miserably / / before the dark army / / pursuing me. / / Threatening

sky stand / / alleys of huts. Crowded

miseries / / fenced with high barbs, eyed from towers, stain / / ear

Two Poems for G

nsequent / / stress and distress, / /

miseries , misery. / / This being so / / have I the right, / / or po

Climacteric by the Sea

dative) / / traps us in self-despising

misery , / / Age takes everything we hate to give: / / knowledge and

No, I can’t agree. / / In spite of the

misery / / even the happiest / / life must settle for / / sometimes

ter all / / centuries of love / / and

misery have sought / / here in the blank of loss / / ways to live wi

eart / / but on his will. / / Can any

misery kill / / the natural unpremeditated start / / of happiness we

r to eye / / across brimming waters of

misery , / / no less beautiful for that, more beautiful, / / lending

“Life is sweet, brother”

hire, Greece, and quite / / forget the

misery of exile when / / Ithaca lay lovely in the moonlight.” / / “L

and love are hell. / / But the heart’s

misery / / only the heart can tell / / —mind and tongue break beneat

/ stress and distress, / / miseries,

misery . / / This being so / / have I the right, / / or power, to be

Climacteric by the Sea

/ seemed the blackness of war and love

misfired , / / the concentration of my brooded wrong. / / No buses pa

shops) / / rude Master Tom’s and prim

Miss Betty’s hops. / /

La Fontaine et le Déluge

/ flashes of truth which pass and many

miss , / / but sensibility locked behind a door / / is lost—is power

/ the only thing that mattered—not to

miss . / / Hardly a sport, but he was hungry, and / / hunger is answe

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

suppose / / to my empty house. / / I

miss … not so much / / a companion as such / / but my companion (all

[Living alone is lonely]

ncesses stayed at home. / / He did not

miss them, heart more than content / / with other forms, compulsive a

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

stood / / waiting too long. Oh, do not

miss your hour. / / Deep hoarded in your heart a wealth of good / /

orm. / / His arrows one by one lost on

missed kills, / / memory or instinct somehow kept his way. / / Utter

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

of a corridor / / a small door somehow

missed led to a stair, / / low, narrow, black, and twisting to its en

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ght, / / would be wholly sorry to have

missed life / / on this multifarious earth. / / Accepting life entai

Climacteric by the Sea

them with excuse. / / Find me the path

missed on the clouded hill / / I set my feet to climb. Let me not los

winner. / / Things you only just / /

missed . Sophie of course, and Tom’s / / throwaway, that in / / five

t not the spectres of / / the lost and

missed torment, nor those who live / / haunt as cold ghosts the memor

Prayer to Truth

it goes. More than grieve for her / /

missing , love what she had and was, is, / / and live this for her whi

A poem you may like to see

en silence settled down / / like a sea-

mist . A minute or an hour, / / a hundred years… Time, it seemed, had

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

mbics) lies / / built out of frost and

mist and level light / / before our ordinary eyes. / /

illow- / / grey, but no river, / / no

mist )—another / / harsher country. / / Here, in my country, / / fla

Five Poems for Roni

tact. / / And now the vision begins to

mist . Hands seeking / / other outlets / / forget the pencil. / / (A

future. / / Hardly seen, / / all in a

mist of blood is hid. / / Not upon us our fathers’ sin / / but on yo

ove us in others. Has time brought up a

mist / / or blown the cloud-cap from a point of truth? / /

In the Audience

e whispering of two alone; / / melting

mist / / or tough to outlast / / their time, their race—perhaps mank

/ The story shifted like the shifting

mist . / / Robbers and dragons make an easy dream. / / How can a hero

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

now / / towards the sun through bright

mist . / / There is nothing else. / / Luckily I am / / too often too

/ The sun, the hard master, brooks no

mist . / / Where are streams and drenched woods? Where is the rain? /

Varangian in Mickelgard

se. / / He won through from that first

mistake , / / but only just—and whether we / / have left ourselves a

Mother’s Malison

tions, which by one / / choice, by one

mistake , / / can leave an uninhabitable / / waste, humanity gone /

up must come down / We can’t tell what

mistake / / it was that wiped out the dinosaurs and their like / / a

What goes up must come down

im / / but was the way, one way and no

mistake . / / Now, though, the gathering of the valley-cleft / / moun

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nd brave / / she lost them both by one

mistake . / / Oneself is not one’s own to give / / as though it were

called to her. / / In autumn (her own

mistress , near fifteen) / / she came again, to set beside the green /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

hocked by it. He sought / / the pox at

Mistress Overdone’s instead. / /

ng at. / / I’ve bad drugs in my chest,

Mistress , things I bought / / from an eastern pedlar, who taught me h

Spells and Love

in, / / crying her sorrow that all his

mistresses loved him, / / even the little girls she had got for him,

nmerited abuse / / because you met his

mistresses with strife / / but those who take with joy the love of Ze

d been / / a marriage. / / So, as the

mists came up and choked / / that very fiery particle, it was Lady By

“Tell Lady Byron…”

aking / / of water dribbling, drifting

mists , sharp heather / / black through the snow—the frozen winter bre

hout willow. / / Am I the willow? / /

misty country, / / soft-light river? / / Are you the other? / / Eve

Five Poems for Roni

y country, / / flares no cypress. / /

Misty willow / / dreams by the river, / / drops a soft shadow. / /

Five Poems for Roni

hite snow / / slope) tobogganing. / /

Misunderstandings . / / Can they be sloughed in the new / / relation?

Yes, you’re right] / Yes, you’re right.

Misunderstandings may / / sometimes (we’re human) drift our way / /

[Yes, you’re right]

o silly to / / be a wise old man. / /

Misunderstandings ? / / That New Yorker joke: “My wife / / does under

my house. / / I’ll pound a lizard and

mix an ill drink for him / / tomorrow. But now, Thestylis, take the a

Spells and Love

/ Who am I?” She clung to him with this

moan , / / weeping and trembling. And he held her close / / and calle

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the walls, lofty and from no empty / /

moat upmounting, but straight from shining water / / bravely bridged—

l help, all hope far / / blindfold and

mock the visionary heart, / / fetter the lifting feet. / / And on hi

ambridge how / / came she?” my prophet

mocked . And she to me: / / “countless the hours trouble and loss allo

ldren think of it? / / thin-legged and

mocked , in London or in Lyme / / timelessly scraping gay unheeded tim

La Fontaine et le Déluge

lm / / raised for him in a wren’s-nest

mockery . / / A nest? He peered harder. It was a shell, / / its shave

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rk, not ours his pay. / / Brother men,

mockery here’s nothing. / / We all need mercy, so go pray. / /

Villon’s Epitaph

to give / / not everything we have—in

mockery / / leaves us (our fee to Death) the will to live. / / Conde

ut love / / all those happy things are

mockery . / / She had to spoil herself, and spoiled die. / /

“Gale is Dead”

oredoms, the grim wait; / / always his

mocking game / / stacked against us. / / But no, not always. / / Th

Two Poems from a New Life

e (and so on). / / But on the simplest

model of the cosmos / / this our world is infinitely small / / and i

girl, and not yet drawn close / / knew

Molly and stood still. “But this once more is / / truth but not flesh

chill / / wind seemed among my bones.

Molly was gone. / / The sky was clouded over; my feet were heavy; /

/ takes the wind from his sail / / the

moment after. / / Hamlet, faltering / / on a split hair, / / hears

Moment and Memory / The shutter flicks; the fleeting moment stays / /

Moment and Memory

/ / from logical pursuit. / / Let the

moment burn. / /

ot by nothing, at least / / in its own

moment by almost anything? / /

the moment comes to forget] / When the

moment comes to forget / / (night on the footless cliff) / / I hope

[When the moment comes to forget]

moment comes to forget] / When the moment comes to forget / / (night

[When the moment comes to forget]

g / / of child or bird leaves the next

moment empty. / / Look on the walls, lofty and from no empty / / moa

woke. / / “You?…” a faint trouble in a

moment gone, / / lost in a smile as warm as sunlight—“You.” / / “Ah,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

smooth skin) back to my house… / / The

moment I heard his light step through my door— / / These are the spri

Spells and Love

warm hum and glow. / / The long-drawn

moment , intolerably taut, / / suddenly loosens to a blessed light: /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

her time, / / you beside me. And for a

moment I’m / / sure of your actual presence, and the peace / / flood

[My grandchildren are stamping the ice-puddles]

memory and life; the artist’s captured

moment / / lives like a memory / / and, would we live, we must let m

Moment and Memory

, at the silent hour, / / at the still

moment of the absent sun / / cease, be gone. / / And saw begin / /

Winter Solstice

y him. Why reach out to her / / at the

moment of truth? / / Well, she was his wife, / / and marriage is ine

“Tell Lady Byron…”

/ / why not mountains?). And from that

moment on / / through storm and sun, ice-nights and sweating heat /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s riven world in which we live / / one

moment shows as whole and healed. / / Accept the vision. Let it give

mory / The shutter flicks; the fleeting

moment stays / / pinned on time like a butterfly on a board, / / dea

Moment and Memory

ew his polluted state / / (the cloud a

moment thinning) / / —for that unwitting sinning / / dared not appro

Pelopia and Thyestes

and follow reason / / yet to dare at a

moment / / to follow something other / / which guides us against rea

/ not like the camera catch the fading

moment / / to hold it like a dead leaf in the hand. / /

Moment and Memory

/ / lifting over the hill, / / it’s a

moment to take a cool / / look in the face, or / / rather at the fac

[Now of threescore and ten]

ty, estranging / / and yet that mortal

moment too / / escapes dimension, time and space: / / not interval b

turning tide / / and just at the still

moment , when the sea / / moved again upwards in the endless dance, /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ng, drooping in spirit and in face / /

momently like a flower / / they touch the absolute value of each hour

The Lilies of the Field

/ Twigs cracking, one dog’s bark, / /

momently pierce but not disturb or tear / / the silence of the dark.

Country and Town

ng at her bidding. Then at most / / at

moments a companion. More? Well, lonely / / she sometimes was; hardly

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

on a board, / / dead. / / But passing

moments do not perish, build / / memory and life; the artist’s captur

Moment and Memory

ome. / / Cold…colder…then, a matter of

moments , / / grass, brambles, everything around is white. / /

parted flesh. All dreams. But even / /

moments of dream are moments passing—time / / moves to our meeting wi

you cut flowing / / water, or mark the

moments of the wind? / / Is it the wind, is it love, saying / / “The

Winter Solstice

ry / / and, would we live, we must let

moments pass / / to memory, form the phases of our life, / / not lik

Moment and Memory

ams. But even / / moments of dream are

moments passing—time / / moves to our meeting with the starting, slow

r yesterday—images which empty / / the

moment’s brimming being. Not us they’re calling / / but others within

quite alone, / / the princess drank a

moment’s peace from it. / / Half the courtyard was moonlit, half a po

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

er hour. / / Forced by exhaustion to a

moment’s rest / / he saw the little tunnel he had made / / in the va

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ty down, stepped up the stair, / / the

moment’s shadow vanished. / / So it was / / that just at midnight, w

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

and smoke, movement and noise. / / The

moment’s timeless flame transcends / / imagination’s competence. / /

Delos in Spring

mmon foreign tongue / / Encore un peu,

mon enfant. Mon enfant, n’aie pas peur. / / … but the knife whips out

tongue / / Encore un peu, mon enfant.

Mon enfant, n’aie pas peur. / / … but the knife whips out manhood, wo

y / / dark trees gather, and the white

monastery / / looks east over the sea. / / East we fare, and the roc

September Cruise

ay / / and never stopped all day. / /

Monday morning early / / we found the drink was out / / —the Captain

rule his country, Croesus count out his

money , / / Achilles outrace the winds, since those are their fancies.

Shepherd’s Song

/ / take by its side their rest. / /

Monks , harnessing the hungers of the flesh / / to spiritual flights,

ng / / in the evening frost / / —this

monochrome stillness looks / / like death but is something else. / /

ollen. / / Snow under grey cloud. / /

Monochrome world from Cambridge / / to the Border. Or / / from here

/ as giver—throws upon / / her basic

monotone / / scents, colours, notes, the whole / / dream-treasury of

nd terrible fight / / finally won. The

monster dead, he lay / / wounded to death. His lady bent above, / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he crooked knife / / lent us to hunt a

monster with, / / misborn into a crueller myth / / we use against ou

r, the bold / / prince to confront the

monsters in their lairs, / / outwit the witches, win the sweet prince

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

owers / / at the edge of a copse. / /

Monstrance and Host in the grass / / wink at the sky. / / They must

The Shepherdess of Cahuzac

/ finds it robbed. / / Gone the silver

monstrance / / with the flesh of God. / / Elders gather, the bells /

The Shepherdess of Cahuzac

true / / love fore-defeat the devil’s

monstrous game? / / Love’s grand illusion ‘Love can master Fate’. /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

e’d come—but turning again, grew / / a

monstrous hill of thorn before his face / / just where a sudden thinn

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ock, waited / / out of the wave / / a

monstrous love / / —but her wind-wooer struck him to a stone / / hum

future’s cloud is gathered / / into a

monstrous shape. / / Yet here and now about me / / between two thoug

future’s cloud is gathered / / into a

monstrous shape; / / yet here and now about me / / between two thoug

[Today we feel behind us]

mine, or any of ours I’d say.” / / “A

month ago… That’s what became of her. / / How’s your father?” “Old no

e stop / / sometime, might a tolerable

month be June? / / —with the rose light in the hedges to lift or droo

Sixtieth Summer

the years went round by rote, / / each

month for work or less work docketed, / / only in the King’s hunting-

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t least he would return / / within the

month . He asked her, too, to speak / / a word for him to the head for

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

time now.” / / “At its brightest this

month ” he said, and showed me how / / working up from the moon, off t

es / / but a dull hope. / / Once each

month / / peeling a sodden rag from her body she’d / / wipe it down

War-time Anecdote

followed him, and made it out. / / Six

months ago above an Aegean harbour / / Jupiter occulted. And above th

, and that all / / these gales, miles,

months cannot defeat love’s existence. / /

Two Poems from a New Life

till the New Year to hunt. Those three

months gone / / the castle was for nine their quiet home. / / But no

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

’s litter / / —born blind, and several

months too early.” / / But I’d talked enough. I laid the girl / / do

d wall, and near at hand / / glows the

monument of Philopappos / / (a Syrian princeling of the Roman age /

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

t age / / with this rather pretentious

monument / / which time has tanned and broken to harmony). / / The s

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

nd look, / / seen through our shifting

mood , / / a double wall of smoke, / / to know fully, judge fairly an

/ / but we read omens according to our

mood / / and mine was sad today. / / I turned away / / and another

ngs of a season, / / more of recurrent

moods , I’m forgetful of: / / De la Mare very early, Christina, the ot

the sun, at the dead moon, dead as the

/ / I saw the thinnest sliver of a new

moon , / / a day or two only, tilted on its back, / / low down in the

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / About half way, near Lycon’s, who should pass us / / but D

Spells and Love

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —“And if you had let me in (and they say I’m handsome / /

Spells and Love

/ Above the dark harbour the crescent

moon , / / and just beside her bright Jupiter. / / We watch them move

September Cruise

t, / / though the night be deprived of

moon and morning, / / day was before it—and we have had the past. /

unexpectedly come, / / between the set

moon and the gathering dawn, / / I turned to Hampstead and walked slo

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —and Theumaridas’ old Thracian nurse (she’s dead now), / /

Spells and Love

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —“and when you see he’s alone, give him a sign, / / then s

Spells and Love

en I saw new, / / as out of cloud, the

moon ; as hanging over / / Croyde Bay or Ringstead Bay. Came sharply t

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / At last I made my mind up. I said to my slave / / “Thestyl

Spells and Love

swimming head, saw it was night, / / a

moon —behind, the bright sea under it, / / and calm. Miles to his left

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s were bright, / / before dawn and the

moon behind the hill. / / I reached the tree and paused, straining my

our worlds; the river / / reflects the

moon between our eyes and brain, / / and bound within our private sen

comfort you through Hell.” / / As the

moon breaks, as the moon broke through cloud / / despair thinned on m

Hell.” / / As the moon breaks, as the

moon broke through cloud / / despair thinned on my heart. The moonlig

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —“But as it is, I owe thanks first to the Cyprian / / godd

Spells and Love

ea; that is yet this sea, moved by this

moon . / / By moon-heaped ocean, strait / / and firth where the tides

starry donors—loss, / / negation, new-

moon darkness—Carabosse! / / And words like cave-drips from her cold

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ump gaping / / at the sun, at the dead

moon , dead as the moon. / /

/ / alone between the curtain and the

moon , / / felt herself blush, laughed ‘Oh how nice’—half child / / s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

on the water reaches / / towards sun,

moon , / / fisher’s lamp, recurring flashes / / of lighthouse beam. T

September Cruise

ts shone brighter than you are shining,

Moon , / / fresh-oiled from a round of bouts in the wrestling-school.

Spells and Love

ght on / / western darkness, hangs the

moon . / / Frosted stars are veiled / / in black. The clean air is th

from the thoughts of men. / / The dry

moon hangs, skull to a Magdalen, / / a mirror to the earth of beauty’

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / He looked at me, the rake, then lowered his eyes, / / sat

Spells and Love

ed out as he came near. / / “Oh what a

moon ,” he said. “By such a shine / / we first saw Florence resting in

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —“He wantonly crazes the maiden out of her bower, / / and

Spells and Love

t this sea, moved by this moon. / / By

moon -heaped ocean, strait / / and firth where the tides race, / / Le

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / I saw him, and my wits left me. My wretched heart / / caug

Spells and Love

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —“I was coming, by sweet Love’s self I swear I was coming /

Spells and Love

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / —I went colder than snow all over. A drenching sweat / / s

Spells and Love

under the sail of poetry / / —the old

moon in the new moon’s arms, / / the little daughter dead in the sea.

te in a winter night, / / a round high

moon lighting the field path home. / / Cold…colder…then, a matter of

/ over the ocean rim. I looked at the

moon , / / looked up searching stars. And I thought I heard / / “Woul

the springs of my love. Mark them, lady

Moon . / / My colour faded—sallow as a dead leaf. / / My hair fell ou

Spells and Love

showed me how / / working up from the

moon , off to the right, / / I could find it. I followed him, and made

Night-piece / The half-

moon on Orion’s shoulder / / lays on the world light / / colder than

ging as I have borne it. / / Good-bye,

Moon on your shining throne. Good-bye / / you other stars that ride w

Spells and Love

to desire,” I said. / / “So stands the

moon over Vathý, and bright / / the harbour under the dark hills is l

Such light,” I said, “and more the full

moon shed / / when caught by night my second day in Greece / / we lo

h, fire-spells to bind him. / / But, O

Moon , / / shine out while I croon, to you, goddess, and to Hecate, /

Spells and Love

north up the Grays Inn Road. Where the

moon shone / / across a tram-wire mesh, we met a mass / / solemn in

lucent pane / / reflected overlays the

moon . / / Sometimes when the self grows thin / / I am my father or m

Shadow and Substance

sed to the curtained room, white in the

moon — / / that youth she met so often in the wood / / who stood asid

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

bonny fighter / / by nights without a

moon . / / Three nights and days together / / two-score Turks I kille

cus stood one alone / / just where the

moon threw Eros’ shadow on her. / / She, stepping suddenly where the

he Enemy Over There, / / faster to the

moon , to Mars, / / to a peradventure satellite (faster, faster) / /

Curvature of Space

steps I groped into the murk. / / The

moon was clouded, I was deadly tired. / / This defeat and the inescap

ot to make too long a story of it, dear

Moon , / / we achieved it all, came both to our desire. / / Till the

Spells and Love

summer’s first decline. / / “By such a

moon we quarrelled at Arezzo / / over a camera, where all divine / /

but clear of cloud / / the eleven day

moon whitened in front of us. / / Over the short grass my feet too we

house. / / Bran goes on next. Artemis,

Moon , you can move / / Death’s adamant door, and anything else as stu

Spells and Love

is / / listening / / among marble and

moonlight . / /

/ Trafalgar Square, laid empty in the

moonlight , / / and long Whitehall received my echoing paces, / / the

d / / despair thinned on my heart. The

moonlight fell / / on her pale face and tall, slight, angular figure.

xile when / / Ithaca lay lovely in the

moonlight .” / / “Lovely—an exile to desire,” I said. / / “So stands

Moonlight transfigures marble. / / When I think of that beauty / / I

ce from it. / / Half the courtyard was

moonlit , half a pool / / of night, all empty; and the opposite rooms

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Holborn, tired, a dreary road. / / But

moonlit on the bridge the statues were / / like a wood-cut; and there

of poetry / / —the old moon in the new

moon’s arms, / / the little daughter dead in the sea. / / Lays of An

ight, marking the unseen edge, / / the

moon’s dark circle / / which joins her crescent-tips. / / Then we no

September Cruise

have place. / / Come in from the cold

Vision Between Waking and Sleep

ness, despair and pride / / peopled my

moor and heart—that world I knew.” / / “Prophet and guide, unhoped fo

red me secret and strong. The wind, the

moor / / and my own heart sufficed. Three times the rigour / / of ex

inter gloom / / the gorse on the brown

moor is out of bloom / / that still pricks to the bone. / /

/ / some magic castle, leaving a bleak

moor . / / We followed on across the dreary circus, / / pit where the

e] / I find it difficult to forgive Tom

Moore / / for burning Byron’s journal—yet in the end / / admit that

[I find it difficult to forgive Tom Moore]

[I find it difficult to forgive Tom

Moore ] / I find it difficult to forgive Tom Moore / / for burning Byr

[I find it difficult to forgive Tom Moore]

grey gull. Nearer the bone / / was the

moorhen . / / Like something not known to be remembered (dream, / / u

Yeats and Water-Birds

d; and she: “you know me well. / / The

moor’s loneliness and the wind’s vigour / / bred me secret and strong

/ Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, / / Alex

Morell , / / Christl Probst, Willi Graf / / —so many years lost / /

Die Weisse Rose

/ Willi Graf, Christl Probst, / / Alex

Morell , Hans Scholl, / / Sophie Scholl. / /

Die Weisse Rose

Morning / Across a cold bright air the sun / / slants. The day and th

e to that brittle bole.” / / Then, one

morning , at last, again / / faithless we find a miracle, / / tender

t the rain is falling. / / But suppose

morning / / comes bright, washed things will display / / new beauty,

can I understand? / / Life was a still

morning / / cool on brow and hand / / till flesh and soul flowered /

hough the night be deprived of moon and

morning , / / day was before it—and we have had the past. / / “Follow

/ / new beauty, a world singing. / /

Morning did come bright. / / Iridescent the cleaned world, / / gem-c

and never stopped all day. / / Monday

morning early / / we found the drink was out / / —the Captain had to

ss / / your unschemed hope, as the new

morning finds / / dew on the grass. / /

and dropped flat on the bed. / / Next

morning , fit and fresh, the mystery / / puzzled him of the empty room

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Joy / Ask no surety of this flawless

morning / / for noon or afternoon. Take what may / / come—bright or

he to them was, true. / / It was that

morning from that valley-head / / he saw the mountain—a tall flat-top

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

It seemed like weeping. / / The bright

morning glistens on the night’s tears. / / Time heals and doesn’t hea

News of a Death

g untroubled sleep. / / Awaking in the

morning he perceived / / the difficulty was not really there. / / Ju

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ds in his loaded boat. / / Most of the

morning he stood out to sea / / against the sun, but somewhere round

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

least to express her rarity. / / Next

morning hooves and grinding wheels awoke him. / / He looked down on t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

but could not name. / / He said “Good

morning ”, I the same / / and asked if he was going far. / / He said

ld too in the old garden. / / A spring

morning , light green, dark green, / / sun-shadows and a sparkle of de

Two Serenities / Still

morning . Milky sea / / under a haze of pearl. / / A girl’s gaze / /

Two Summer Songs / Afternoon /

Morning / Summer recurs. / / Green fields of childhood greet us / /

Two Summer Songs

“Life is sweet, brother” / Winter

morning . / / This clear level light makes beautiful / / all the bric

“Life is sweet, brother”

n hanging reached for a nest. / / Each

morning when she woke she could bear it less / / —found scissors and

Eugénie de Guérin

ency / / “Have a Rainbow Day” / / One

morning you couldn’t bear it any longer, / / razored it away, / / an

[Fall rainbows the forest-acred mountains]

Morning’s first light, spring light, a clear- / / eyed, firm-handed g

ware, at least, as birds of the past or

morrow , / / at work alone on a sand-castle, or calling / / another t

/ recalls me to mounded sand. A windy

morrow / / shakes the crystal bubble about the children. / / Light s

sea has oil-slicks, the upper air / /

mortal contaminations, today is lovely. / / Enjoy today’s beauty and

ontinuity, estranging / / and yet that

mortal moment too / / escapes dimension, time and space: / / not int

Whom the Gods Love / Considering our

mortality / / and that most of us will not die / / before at least o

Whom the Gods Love

d frankincense / / comes myrrh for our

mortality , / / but in this radiant hour we sense / / all things we’r

ealth (fearing / / for his body’s too,

mortally sick) yet sharing / / still with warm loving pride / / his

Eugénie de Guérin

se, rough grass, / / heather, bracken,

moss , / / wild rose on the heath / / —bare from bony feet, / / foul

Two Poems in Memory of Anne Frank

ring / We are here for many things / /

mostly at variance: / / to make ourselves something / / other than n

as they lift / / and their trilling is

mostly scattered, lost in / / defeating gusts, but comes in bright bu

Two Poems from a New Life

it piecemeal. / / We love more easily (

mostly ) than we hate / / people we know. We hate in bulk / / —Commun

a story finishes / / follow of course.

Mostly the answer, though, / / leads to another story; but, I know, /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

, horror-blind / / —a sword drawn on a

mother , / / a daughter’s innocence / / perverted to a tool / / of i

Pelopia and Thyestes

And how did they get home? And were his

mother / / and father fond of her at once? His cousins, / / how did

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ut he lay on— / / the princess and his

mother and his home, / / his occupation and his dream, all gone. / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

natural world, that’s yet our dear / /

mother and love. This paradox / / (a rift in the firm-seeming rocks)

ve—as love comes to a happy child: / /

mother and nurse and father, near and dear, / / taken for granted. No

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ntly / / to those who call you father,

mother , / / as dear as to your own you are. / /

and for once be free… / / Supper, bed,

mother brought him home again. / / His mother, waiting up, met him in

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the untrammelled sea / / but heard his

mother calling, calling him, / / and turned—with dreadful pain, for w

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

e sloping road above us / / a form, my

mother , came. “From Cambridge how / / came she?” my prophet mocked. A

aring father, / / the season-sloughing

mother . / / Child of man and woman, / / slow from the womb coming, /

unds in front? / / would ask a Spartan

mother / / concerning her dead son. / / And found in an affirmative

ether in lasting love / / before their

mother / / died, when he was eight, she was thirteen. / / And now th

Eugénie de Guérin

fts of cloud / / remote and faint lies

mother earth. / / Above the station of our birth / / we ride the sun

d so themselves) / / cuts its way into

mother earth / / till all is empty quarries, shells / / riven by a C

Mother’s Malison

ned / / but pride to help her. / / My

mother had her wounds / / in front. She went to face things. / / Wha

supply—written a note / / to tell his

mother he was gone, and gone. / / The sky was clear, the dawn-wind li

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rly, off—a letter left to warn / / his

mother —hoped perhaps within a week / / or two or three, at least he w

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ing his father dead, / / then laid his

mother in his father’s bed, / / but got no extra kick from the affair

than a baby can / / whimpering for his

mother in his sleep. / / I lay there, my living body stiff as a doll.

Spells and Love

f muddy / / water are splashing. Their

mother , I’m afraid / / won’t be amused. But a good time’s being had.

[My grandchildren are stamping the ice-puddles]

amiliar way, / / hungry for bed, home,

mother , like a child. / / Hungry too for the sight of the princess. /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

her said, / / were driving him and her

mother nearly mad. / / The neighbours say: We knew that she was dying

… But only said: “How can I go? / / My

mother needs me here. I cannot choose.” / / They parted, not pleased

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

hite water, where children played their

mother / / played as a child; where she and I, young, / / walked tog

[White foam sweeps]

ing up from the seat. / / Scolding the

mother ran / / up. I smiled down / / to reassure, make contact with,

Ten Seconds on a Tube Platform

Mother sat, her dead Son on her knees, / / white-glowing marble wroug

to loosen and come down / / I hear my

mother say / / “Each caught leaf promises a happy day / / next year”

[Golden, red, brown]

away from here, my father’s woods, your

mother ” / / she almost said ‘and me’ but slipped another / / phrase

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

te when they were going to bed. / / My

mother —she was your age, just about—” / / (he must, he thought, then

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

n I with him. But today Philista’s / /

mother (the flute-girl’s) and Melixo’s came / / to see me early, Dawn

Spells and Love

more than he ever had / / even to her

mother . “There was something sad, / / so sad. Just what it was I neve

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ather’s). When I was very small / / my

mother used to carry me out there / / to see them, but old granny had

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

mother brought him home again. / / His

mother , waiting up, met him in wild— / / reproach? Not so—excitement.

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

th ‘Once upon / / a time’ but “When my

mother was a girl”— / / particularity, strange and not good— / / her

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

cadia, and all the foals / / and their

mothers , cropping it, run mad on the mountains. / / So to this house

Spells and Love

or young widow with an only son. / / A

mother’s boy (he never knew his father) / / beloved and loving, but a

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ory hero’s cake / / was eaten with his

mother’s curse. / / He won through from that first mistake, / / but

Mother’s Malison

under the sky’s breadth / / from their

mother’s dark sources / / past that laboured earth. / /

The Green Children of Woolpit

a crueller myth / / we use against our

mother’s life. / / That corner where the road / / turns from the fi

Mother’s Malison / Industrious humanity / / (industrious as cancer-ce

Mother’s Malison

ted, narrowly hedged in. / / West, his

mother’s tramontane kingdom reached / / leagues north, she told him,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he Manly Fun Pier’) / / where the even

motion of the Ferris wheel / / contrasts with the Octopus whose tilte

the stream, dance upon / / the secret

motions of the air, / / there and here, up, down, / / settle at last

How not to listen to music

flat horizon / / under the high-cloud-

mottled pallid blue / / offers all colours equally subdued. / / Wint

[Bare trees black]

on. Let it give / / a form on which to

mould and build. / /

l. / / Worn out he dropped on the leaf-

mould and slept. / / Waking, he drank deep from his water-flask / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rot / / in yielding featureless black

mould below. / / For the first time Time’s inescapable stream / / se

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the power; / / glows like a star their

mould , but in an hour / / burns out. / /

dropped in a daze, he bled on the leaf-

mould / / uncaring, when his eye lit on the shell / / dropped there

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

were it so / / that fixed face was not

moulded on his heart / / but on his will. / / Can any misery kill /

ood, / / St Paul’s, in pale and shadow-

moulded stone, / / and stilled, emptied my mind; and then what should

ness in your silence / / recalls me to

mounded sand. A windy morrow / / shakes the crystal bubble about the

/ / which licks the lower hills. As we

mount higher / / we lose the illusory fire— / / grey rocks; bushes g

now caught / / in the wide dew-pond of

Mount Palomar, / / leapt from some galaxy, far / / past the faint ne

g from that valley-head / / he saw the

mountain —a tall flat-topped peak / / between two shadowed cliffs sunl

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

h lay his goal. / / Not for itself the

mountain had commanded / / his steps, but that hence he might recogni

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ted in the quarry rock, / / the marble

mountain . He lies below the face / / they chiselled back to free the

September Cruise

he dreamed of love. / / The sun still

mountain -hidden in high day, / / cramped and cold he stood looking up

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

renched the brush with petrol round the

mountain hide-out / / of Gregory Afxendióu / / —here, where now welc

Peace and order flake away. / / Every

mountain , plain and bay / / breeds its princeling of the knife. / /

/ / Other times it can be / / forest,

mountain , sea. / / Stupidity is powerful, and ill will. / / Destroyi

/ stillness, where thickly-bushed steep

mountain -side / / broke to a torrent summer had not yet dried. / / O

Pelopia and Thyestes

I was alone / / with Emily. The noble

mountain stood, / / St Paul’s, in pale and shadow-moulded stone, / /

low / / the soft sand, he rejoined the

mountain -stream, / / turned and began the climb towards the pass. /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

an uninhabited wild. / / Now, down the

mountain through the closing day, / / stumbling, shaking, took the fa

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rbour-city’s bay— / / rock rising to a

mountain , to a range, / / sand stretched out from the flat green plai

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the near-brackish marsh- / / water—the

mountain -water, sweet and clean, / / was gone before. “I asked him wh

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

days / / walking, scrambling, he added

mountain -ways / / to his wood-knowledge. The forest-plain below / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

re fronted him / / no choice, no way—a

mountainous barrier / / of thorn, lost in the woods each side. ‘Go th

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

(if butterflies can speak, / / why not

mountains ?). And from that moment on / / through storm and sun, ice-n

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the river ran, / / but thinking of the

mountains and the coast, / / trusting the fairy’s truth, he led her o

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

in, and the small kingdom too. / / The

mountains and the sea enclosed his world. / / For years he’d sailed t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

the gathering of the valley-cleft / /

mountains beleaguered him, and offered him / / a dozen or a hundred p

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

an the climb towards the pass. / / The

mountains brought new muscles into play / / with new delights. He bre

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ows. And the way / / home was the grim

mountains … But the way on? / / The words seemed almost spoken more th

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

[Fall rainbows the forest-acred

mountains ] / Fall rainbows the forest-acred mountains, / / unbelievab

[Fall rainbows the forest-acred mountains]

unknown coast by the unknown steep / /

mountains , most rarely dared by any from / / the forest, fearful of t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

s over blue gulf-water to the blue / /

mountains of Achaea, and through / / the eye of the Corinth canal. An

e, south always south / / watching the

mountains rise, to where a valley- / / stream turned the dunes, his s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ir mothers, cropping it, run mad on the

mountains . / / So to this house may I see Delphis bolting, / / a mad

Spells and Love

d them he had crossed / / the southern

mountains , steep and bare, with little / / water or vegetation and le

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

, / / and when night came, deep in the

mountains stopped, / / his water-bottle filled at a cold stream, / /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t length into a cliff-faced range— / /

mountains ! The river-water was nearly gone / / and in the mountains t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

r-water was nearly gone / / and in the

mountains there would surely be / / springs—and oh, mountains! what a

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

nd almost mad, / / across the dreadful

mountains to his home / / and found the worst. Returned on the same t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

d as he woke. He moved / / through the

mountains towards the untrammelled sea / / but heard his mother calli

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

tains] / Fall rainbows the forest-acred

mountains , / / unbelievable ranges / / of daily changing colours. /

[Fall rainbows the forest-acred mountains]

e’d been there first / / crossing huge

mountains , wandering and wild / / ‘full of hope, full of hope’ he tol

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

re would surely be / / springs—and oh,

mountains ! what a blessed change / / from the flat ribbon stretching

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ght, / / stars contouring a high black

mountain’s rim. / / But often mind forgot the joy of eyes. / / Valle

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

us’s blood / / froths cold in its gold-

mounted phial. / / In canyons of the high-slummed hill / / sick chil

steeple against a blue-black / / cloud

mounting blue sky. / / I look through my own eyes and others too, /

[Released from cloud the low sun at my back]

ood / / ran down his face, he fought a

mounting fear. / / He knew in this last fight against the good / / f

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

uty flowers into / / the wilderness we

mourn . / /

Cassandra’s Song

he fitted words / / you love. Love and

mourn , / / but the world must turn. / /

sh Chislehurst, / / widowhood, soon to

mourn / / her killed, her only, son, / / fighting a foreigners’ war

tability / / would be non-entity. / /

Mourn the smooth hill, the woods / / you love, the fitted words / /

accept their transience / / and never

mourn their passing until they’re past. / /

eason’s flowers. / / And why should we

mourn ? / / Why accept the pattern / / for these, question ours? / /

I, already old, / / successful, happy,

mourned / / a hollow failure of the heart. / / Your joy of life, you

[Most of us, somewhere along the road]

/ we’ll talk about that again when your

mourning / / is folded away, god willing. But now / / I’ll be good,

in, bone and scared eyes, moving like a

mouse / / in the dusk of walls, craved scraps of food and love / / —

nsult-tinselling flattery, / / cat-and-

mouse of proffered hope, / / pretend kindness… Grind the axe, / / he

lack is thin behind, / / her blonde is

mousy at the root. / / The laugh too, and the voice, are faked… / /

better than when he’d reached the river-

mouth . / / A new trouble: the choice of right or left, / / of wrong

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

kle / / (mean fighter) takes me in the

mouth , / / and as I spit another tooth out / / I wonder if the lack’

[Age’s bony knuckle]

ce—that face. / / He kissed her on the

mouth and she awoke. / / “You?…” a faint trouble in a moment gone, /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

And words like cave-drips from her cold

mouth dropped: / / “All remembered but I? And all so quick / / to bl

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ove’, and leaning kissed / / his dying

mouth . He died. Or did her love / / raise him to life and set him at

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ And if I’d got a kiss of your pretty

mouth / / I’d have gone to sleep happy. But if your door had been bar

Spells and Love

erging into mud. He found / / the wide

mouth of a sluggish-seeming river. / / Beyond, the ribbon stretching

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

er face to his face and / / kissed his

mouth . Then “This” faltering “is yours if…” / / She pressed into his

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

lackadaisical perfection / / grates. I

move away / / admiring perhaps, certainly disliking. / / But today /

Hermes of Olympia

an goes on next. Artemis, Moon, you can

move / / Death’s adamant door, and anything else as stubborn… / / —T

Spells and Love

t now / / I find the year’s wheel / /

move faster—more than sixty turns / / completed, am more aware / / w

ed, hungry—but at least could stand and

move . / / He took the bow. A gull perched on the cliff. / / He aimed

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

but when some actual company’s offered,

move / / heaven and earth to keep out of its way? / / The young prin

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ure light of the last sky that does not

move / / is God, who moves them all, moves us, through love. / / Ear

me; and turned to Emily, ready to / /

move like the river to my certain goal. / / She smiled: “this is no l

Shipwreck / The waves

move on uncharted courses / / to lose themselves, or break on sand, /

her bright Jupiter. / / We watch them

move / / slowly, inevitably, steadily / / together. At last the plan

September Cruise

e / / sensed at his shoulder something

move … / / so whisper-faint… a dream? / / No—if intangible, / / stil

Just now, sunk in the dark, I could not

move / / spirit or feet, now I am strong and light. / / Walk with me

/ / and most, to make those love-tides

move , / / the sharper love that lovers share. / / As water at the we

ng the you I love. Yet that land / / I

move through in your words, love through your eyes, / / I’ve known be

Two Poems for G

nd hills / / that rise or shrink as we

move through miles and years, / / establishing unchallenged supremacy

seemed painful or hardly to exist, / /

move us in others. Has time brought up a mist / / or blown the cloud-

In the Audience

at the still moment, when the sea / /

moved again upwards in the endless dance, / / he struck out and soon

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

up, interminably / / tormenting as he

moved along the shore. / / His fingers’ festering pain burned up his

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ttle time alone, / / alone much longer

moved and sat. / / In time there came another one / / who loved her

/ / on the dull sky weighed on me as I

moved / / and thought about my life and little done / / —sensibility

y cannot hear / / nor, if it could, be

moved by them. / /

th-dark / / sea; that is yet this sea,

moved by this moon. / / By moon-heaped ocean, strait / / and firth w

to flee. / / Over her breasts my hands

moved gently, / / the new-formed girlhood she bared for me; / / over

the door, and mastering it in part / /

moved , hesitated, afraid to break the charm. / / Pausing to quell his

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

/ and made a pass; but left her little

moved . / / Next day she slept late, but late afternoon / / dry and s

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

but this one not / / thereby to malice

moved or bitterness. / / To Carabosse all things are ground for hate,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he dawn-wind light but good, / / as he

moved outwards in his loaded boat. / / Most of the morning he stood o

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

st of the recovered wind. / / The boat

moved rippling forward on the sea, / / purposeful. Suddenly from the

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

e deeper shade, / / and tired and cold

moved stiffly, vaguely on. / / Soon to the Spaniards unexpectedly com

autiful. / / Out of the black a figure

moved , strained face / / raised to the curtained room, white in the m

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

cloud fell; / / softly the fresh wind

moved ; the stars were bright, / / before dawn and the moon behind the

he sail, and then strengthened. / / He

moved the tiller automatically / / to make the most of the recovered

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

am / / half apprehended as he woke. He

moved / / through the mountains towards the untrammelled sea / / but

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

h butterflies in scores, which suddenly

moved , / / wheeled in the air, a sun-caught cloud, and flew / / toge

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

gh you see not how.” / / Quieted now I

moved with lighter feet. / / Past Camden Town we took the Chalk Farm

nd sacrifice / / with blood and smoke,

movement and noise. / / The moment’s timeless flame transcends / / i

Delos in Spring

is not stillness of peace / / but that

movement is pain. / / Can the natural dance / / ever break out again

Winter Recalled

piers, its attack / / turned, its wild

movement mastered—so / / there, not there, the trained current shall

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

child-hand / / impossibly catches the

movements and their sound. / / Faces express feelings, release words.

was traversing / / the forest, marking

movements of the game, / / making all ready for the King’s hunting. /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t’s / / spangled tent, / / an unmoved

mover , / / loved not lover, / / indifferent.” / /

the time in its own way. / / My spirit

moves , as over meaningless pebbles / / (which are not air, which are

pward Turn / Spring, cold and wet, / /

moves into summer with no change. Yet / / the brave blossom is white,

nder the light fresh day / / my spirit

moves like a black beetle. No, / / the beetle is black by nature, and

loving hands / / inexorably drawn / /

moves mastered by an inner law, / / a narrow supple vixen on quick bl

/ from here to eternity. / / The train

moves . Nothing changes. / / What in this city / / do we share? Best,

hyestes / / / / Under the spring sun

moves the innocent band / / white-dressed, green garlanded, under the

Pelopia and Thyestes

but we cannot see the cause / / which

moves the tides of gain and loss. / / This year we saw a shining bein

Winter Solstice

sky that does not move / / is God, who

moves them all, moves us, through love. / / Earth is a speck whirling

of dream are moments passing—time / /

moves to our meeting with the starting, slow, / / hesitant, eager, de

t move / / is God, who moves them all,

moves us, through love. / / Earth is a speck whirling about a spark /

/ suppose, want to leave the womb. / /

Moving across the snow / / towards the sun through bright mist. / /

and clop and slap and hiss, water / /

moving along the moving hollow shell. / / Sigh or high song of wind i

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

p and hiss, water / / moving along the

moving hollow shell. / / Sigh or high song of wind in rigging, air /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

d / / through stunted generations; yet

moving in it / / a blindworm urge to love makes for a minute / / con

soft air. / / The delayed year / / is

moving into spring / / with leaf-bud, blossom, bird-song, / / nest-b

dying— / / skin, bone and scared eyes,

moving like a mouse / / in the dusk of walls, craved scraps of food a

, / / hide darkness where that fish is

moving / / like an escaped thought. / /

Water in a Wood

e waiting water / / and saw my brother

moving towards our / / stance his long steps. “But he” I said, and so

m along the tiller, the live thing / /

moving with him, extension of muscle and bone, / / lightly responding

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

to my empty house. / / I miss… not so

much / / a companion as such / / but my companion (all the years, /

[Living alone is lonely]

/ / successes, our happiness. / / Too

much about me. / / But I think about you more / / and better. Light

r (whom I do not love) / / I think too

much about my bowels. / / But Luther broke the world in half. / / An

Thoughts on the Lavatory

t matter that the world / / (or matter

much ) and I are old. / /

nd use the bow / / but never practised

much , and several days / / he didn’t manage to bring down a bird. /

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

bring me here / / was first by only as

much as the other day / / I managed to beat dear Philinus in a race.”

Spells and Love

r of another beach he knew, / / empty—‘

Much as this must have been before / / they built the city. Far away—

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

n living / / the loved known dead. How

much does memory wane? / / figure and face and voice I thought I had,

/ / an absence of unrest) / / not so

much fear… rather distress / / knowing so much is done / / badly or

er. So much for Paul and Plato? / / So

much for me—an ineffective steward / / myself, I still must be my own

ng question, / / find me no answer. So

much for Paul and Plato? / / So much for me—an ineffective steward /

ept it, / / forget his anger. / / And

much good may it do you. / / I don’t think you’ll get home a second t

, but he could not stop. / / He gained

much ground—but was such ground a gain? / / The dim light dimmed furt

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

ept that we are equally human, and / /

much human inequality / / both in kind and degree / / is wicked and

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

God help us, before / / inflicting so

much hurt / / we’d better not have been born. / / And to ask God for

Living and Dying

hings I meant, and few / / I made; and

much I dreamed is mine and lost, / / but some waits others, and of th

e her like again? / / Well, that’s too

much , I think, to hope. / / And yet her death-throes give me pain. /

To Hera / Great Hera,

much ill-treated by your mate / / most human of the gods and most abu

h fear… rather distress / / knowing so

much is done / / badly or left undone, / / and if something’s done w

ling of waves regathering slow / / —so

much joy to be seen; / / but the idle spiteful soul sits on the beach

he wept a little time alone, / / alone

much longer moved and sat. / / In time there came another one / / wh

eant / / to give her, if not all, / /

much —looks, a quick mind, / / a feeling heart, and one / / thing whi

“Gale is Dead”

st / / (incalculable theirs, / / ours

much ) miraculous gain, / / ours, theirs, does remain / / —the heaven

Die Weisse Rose

only in fragments of a honeymoon). / /

Much more because / / we feel our chords so faultlessly in tune / /

[I have (what seemingly you do not see)]

hang-glider / / (daring it earlier and

much more skilfully) / / here’s one mammal that / / took off into th

rse in itself, / / is informed with so

much more, / / teasing the plaintive self: / / Look backward down yo

d and chilled, / / changes to hate—for

much more than each other: / / for life, which that lost spark has sh

an ache into the pang / / which is so

much more than pain. / / Sea, stone, cypress, / / sharp-cornered sha

Five Poems for Roni

e? Yes, but he felt aware / / of much,

much more, than she could ever have said. / / He almost felt he was t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

od day; now at evening aware / / of so

much more to bless me than I could dare / / hope, it would be / / cu

[The track up the wild stream]

’s tale? Yes, but he felt aware / / of

much , much more, than she could ever have said. / / He almost felt he

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

fter all, I didn’t like being young too

much / / (not after I was younger / / than this cartwheeling child)

Climacteric by the Sea

o love / / and might achieve. / / Not

much , not enough, / / but make a start with these / / breathed from

ot all but partly— / / and true though

much of it is, need that be final? / / Green trees flourish unstricke

nd his friendships, which had always so

much of love? / / Why narrow, cerebral, unhappy Annabel? / / the las

“Tell Lady Byron…”

t, that come and go. / / Do I make too

much of not liking to be old? / / After all, I didn’t like being youn

Climacteric by the Sea

nd two discursive tongues relayed. / /

Much of the rest was vague. He knew the lad / / was taken as a forest

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

y nature, and no doubt / / enjoys life

much of the time in its own way. / / My spirit moves, as over meaning

Sophie twenty-one. / / Kurt Huber was

much older / / but name him, praise him as well), / / promised, unfu

Die Weisse Rose

ugh sun / / is our complaint, / / too

much rain. / / River and tap will always run. / / A little shift in

s back in force. And yet / / he had so

much , so very much, to thank / / the fairy for, he could not think he

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

meant? / / I do not think so. / / Too

much surely to hold you. / / But if it were, what courage. / / I am

/ to all our wickedness, / / yet’s as

much taker quite / / as giver—throws upon / / her basic monotone /

Balance Sheet / Not so

much the fear of dying or of being dead / / (absolute nothingness /

as viable. / / Wind-bitter nights were

much the worst of it. / / Waking before dawn always, stiff with chill

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

egs, feet, which unaware / / betray so

much . / / These too her pencil catches, / / these and their inwardne

e post, / / when mind and hand hold so

much to be done?” / / I drank his voice and did not think to answer /

e. And yet / / he had so much, so very

much , to thank / / the fairy for, he could not think her good / / wo

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

rained to rape and kill. / / Nature is

much to wreck, but man can do it / / and, part of what we ruin, we sh

cool or warm. Be still.” / / Nature is

much to wreck, but man can do it. / / Barbarian or Greek, Gentile or

Nature / for Judith Wright / Nature is

much to wreck, but man can do it— / / his greatest and last proof of

le as escapes my skill.” / / Nature is

much to wreck, but man can do it. / / Now we begin into clear space t

this distortion of / / self spoils too

much / / —twist induced by the ache / / attendant on the lack / / o

t / / —the work was wonderful, and the

much -used blade / / marvellously fresh and keen—it was not that, / /

my orchard sleep that day / / knowing

much was not well / / between my queen and me. / / I thought of many

ovely garden round. / / Did you suffer

much ? / / Would to know the answer help? / / Not you. Us perhaps. /

h remote air / / —pile the brooks with

muck / / lest he find them clear. / / Charred field, / / clotted st

ne day / / it curved off, merging into

mud . He found / / the wide mouth of a sluggish-seeming river. / / Be

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

uite where the others said. / / Watery

mud -holes suck and clog / / and to our vision’s limit spread / / fla

. “Those summer leaves / / are sunk to

mud . How should one not be sad / / since we must all go under with th

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

r grey shining water, grey / / shining

mud of an East-coast estuary. / / The last, dropped more lately, took

Joy we denied,” / / they mutter in the

mud , “out there / / in the sweet air which takes delight in the sun,

Two Glimpses from Dante’s Hell

free / / from the slothful depressive

mud that slowed / / my way, I owe it you; and more than that.” / / “

hrough summer-slack / / water, through

mud ; winter’s boisterous flow / / broken by stone piers, its attack /

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

e / / to caress or grasp, / / unravel

muddle , / / adapt chance, / / determine beauty, / / explore truth…

s by a new revelation: / / how, having

muddled through my life, / / for worse, for better, to this age, / /

[I have you always in my mind]

pocked, dissolving in / / commonness,

muddy ? / / shimmering light lost again / / in grey reversion of rain

dirty and sometimes deep. Fountains of

muddy / / water are splashing. Their mother, I’m afraid / / won’t be

[My grandchildren are stamping the ice-puddles]

85. / / Children (bright-coloured / /

mufflings against a white snow / / slope) tobogganing. / / Misunders

ountains, chestnuts flowering, / / red

mullet and tomato sauce, and sun; / / my love burned high then, but t

sorry to have missed life / / on this

multifarious earth. / / Accepting life entails acceptance / / of dea

Climacteric by the Sea

Die Weisse Rose /

Munich , 1942–3 / Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, / / Alex Morell, / / Ch

Die Weisse Rose

uilding stood square in my dream] / The

municipal building stood square in my dream: / / a white stone façade

[The municipal building stood square in my dream]

municipal building stood square in my dream] / The municipal building

[The municipal building stood square in my dream]

/ someone within. / / Self-made? self-

murdered ? blank as a solitary / / prisoner / / she is looking blindl

/ Back up the steps I groped into the

murk . / / The moon was clouded, I was deadly tired. / / This defeat

/ / the mindless wind / / nerve-ends

murmur / / of a lost limb… / / fingers supple / / to caress or gras

below / / darkness mastered him, every

muscle aching, / / where the cleeve widened to the junction of / / t

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

hing / / moving with him, extension of

muscle and bone, / / lightly responding to his lean, or thrown / / h

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

he pass. / / The mountains brought new

muscles into play / / with new delights. He breathed the air’s bright

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

Athens, Hill of the

Muses ; Evening / The quarried rock drops to the slums, / / like looki

Athens, Hill of the Muses; Evening

darkness curled / / a faint rhythm of

music far up stream. / / Giles turned intent, and soon across the pea

music heard in / / the mindless wind / / nerve-ends murmur / / of a

Music is Landscape / Music is landscape: / / wide grass / / melts to

Music is Landscape

Music is Landscape /

Music is landscape: / / wide grass / / melts to a skyline, / / dips

Music is Landscape

peless ill yearning for well. / / Then—

music of the spheres, / / light—your Lady broke the spell / / of ete

Virgil’s Farewell to Dante

How not to listen to music / The

music parts and joins, parts / / like strands of hair under a comb, /

How not to listen to music

auty sleeps in the air, / / colour and

music . Shine / / of sun in a child’s hair / / turns water into wine.

/ dips to a stream. / / Landscape is

music : / / the heart’s dream / / weaves with what we see / / and be

Music is Landscape

How not to listen to

music / The music parts and joins, parts / / like strands of hair und

How not to listen to music

s. / / Not so different / / from what

musician , poet, any artist / / wrests from the air, relays / / for t

Wedding Night / Considers,

musing at the sleeper’s side, / / the initiated bride / / cycle of s

to renew / / the link, when choice can

muster strength and chance. / / Yet, while the arch is down, what sho

Sur le Pont d’Avignon

aby, / / it dies. / / And so, mutatis

mutandis , through our lives. / / The natural good state is anarchy /

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

spray, / / are some as cold: all their

mutations done, / / their spectral light’s a lesson to the sun / / o

ewborn baby, / / it dies. / / And so,

mutatis mutandis, through our lives. / / The natural good state is an

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

Even the glow / / of autumn leaves is

mute , palely yellowing / / towards winter. Everything / / is withdra

[Noon. But the sun is low]

n his ears the full, strange sound / /

muted before—the breakers. And the wild / / sea stretched to the hori

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

t; and there beside us slowed / / with

muted lights but a familiar air / / a car. “Hullo; get in.” Familiar

rque, / / her captain mad, her crew in

mutiny / / but bound in no purpose or unity, / / planks rotten, seam

Fire-Rain / “Joy we denied,” / / they

mutter in the mud, “out there / / in the sweet air which takes deligh

Two Glimpses from Dante’s Hell

/ / explore truth… / / Sheared nerves

mutter / / in the sealed stump. / /

of the heart / / where natural beauty,

mutual love are free. / / Ointments you have to soothe the personal s

r) / / is not for spilling; / / learn

mutual love. / / This is the bond / / which limits Liberty, / / the

Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité

/ attendant on the lack / / of loving,

mutual touch. / /

wax (O help me, goddess) / / may this

Myndian , this Delphis waste with love, / / and as I whirl Aphrodite’s

Spells and Love

e the cure for this. / / That man from

Myndus has got me, soul and body. / / You go and watch by Timategus’s

Spells and Love

nd the gold and frankincense / / comes

myrrh for our mortality, / / but in this radiant hour we sense / / a

ye of the beholder. / / Beauty is more

mysterious than that / / struck by a trick of light from ugliness /

“Life is sweet, brother”

thanks, be blessed / / in the reviving

mystery . / /

r shan’t dictate / / my answers to the

mystery . / / Good unbelieved-in God, why should you care / / to show

. / / South from the southern cape lay

mystery . / / Home, he found fuss and news, a messenger / / arrived,

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

each other, a oneness, aware / / of a

mystery —life is not just what it seems / / after all, and its ruts ar

. / / Next morning, fit and fresh, the

mystery / / puzzled him of the empty room, stale food / / but other

The Sleeping Beauty’s Prince

on / / gull-dropping-white / / on the

myth -dark / / sea; that is yet this sea, moved by this moon. / / By

o this? / / Or have we? / / In part a

myth , surely—not all but partly— / / and true though much of it is, n

he earned this / / beautiful crown of

myth , / / this parable of truth. / /

ster with, / / misborn into a crueller

myth / / we use against our mother’s life. / / That corner where the

/ The image of Sydney's death / / is

mythical , someone says. / / But living he earned this / / beautiful