Short Poems

I had always heard of Lake Tung-t'ing—
And now at last I have climbed to this tower.
With Wu country to the east of me and Ch'u to the south,
I can see heaven and earth endlessly floating.
… But no word has reached me from kin or friends.
I am old and sick and alone with my boat.
North of this wall there are wars and mountains—
And here by the rail how can I help crying?

Who can alleviate
The joy of a social worker
Alleviating
The sorrows of the poor?

The midnight wind pours darkness through the trees,
How huge their mounded presences appear.
The door-knob turns. Whose visiting hands are these?
What are these footsteps that I do not hear?

Three are the Graces, three the Hours, and three
The charming girls who mystify poor me
Cupid must take me for a man of parts,
To strike me thus, as though I had three hearts.

If the wild bowler thinks he bowls,
Or if the batsman thinks he's bowled,
They know not, poor misguided souls,
They, too, shall perish unconsoled.
I am the batsman and the bat,
I am the bowler and the ball,
The umpire, the pavilion cat,
The roller, pitch, and stumps, and all.

Little Polly Flinders
Sat among the cinders,
Warming her pretty little toes,
Her mother came and caught her,
And whipped her little daughter
For spoiling her nice new clothes.

The waves forever move;
The hills forever rest:
Yet each the heavens approve,
And Love alike hath blessed
A Martha's household care,
A Mary's cloistered prayer.

Does a Philosopher inuite, or pray
Any to heare him? or not make his way,
As meate and drinke doth? or the Sunne excite
Onely by vertue of his heate and light?

Wire, briar, limber-lock,
Three geese in a flock;
One flew east, one flew west,
And one flew over the cuckoo's nest.

of this world
or the world beyond? on the sea
the sunset glow