* * *
Was I angry with Hayley who usd me so ill
Or can I be angry with Felphams old Mill
Or angry with Flaxman or Cromek or Stothard
Or poor Schiavonetti whom they to death botherd
5 Or angry with Macklin or...
The Washer Womans Song
I washd them out & washd them in
And they told me it was a great Sin
More proudly on thy winding course,
Dark Alleghany! flow;
The noblest burden thou couldst bear
Is on thy waters now.
But calm be every turbid wave,
And hushed be wind and storm:
There lies a Nation's destiny
...
"And their nobles have sent their little ones to the waters;
they came to the pits and found no water; they returned with
their vessels empty." -- Jeremiah XIV. 3.
When the fitful fever of the soul
Is awakened in thee first;
And thou goest like Judah'...
Water makes many Beds
For those averse to sleep —
Its awful chamber open stands —
Its Curtains blandly sweep —
Abhorrent is the Rest
In undulating Rooms
Whose Amplitude no end invades —
Whose Axis never comes.
Water, is taught by thirst.
Land — by the Oceans passed.
Transport — by throe —
Peace — by its battles told —
Love, by Memorial Mold —
Birds, by the Snow.
We can but follow to the Sun —
As oft as He go down
He leave Ourselves a Sphere behind —
'Tis mostly — following —
We go no further with the Dust
Than to the Earthen Door —
And then the Panels are reversed —
And we behold — no more.
We Cover Thee — Sweet Face —
Not that We tire of Thee —
But that Thyself fatigue of Us —
Remember — as Thou go —
We follow Thee until
Thou notice Us — no more —
And then — reluctant — turn away
To Con Thee o'er and o'er —
And blame the scanty love
We were Content...
We do not know the time we lose —
The awful moment is
And takes its fundamental place
Among the certainties —
A firm appearance still inflates
The card — the chance — the friend —
The spectre of solidities
Whose substances are sand —