Short Poems

I lie out here under a heather sod,
A moor-stone at my head; the moor winds play above.
I lie out here.…The graveyard of their God
Was not for desperate me who died for love!
I lie out here under the sun and moon;
Across me ponies stride, and curlews cry.
I have no tombstone screed—no: “Soon
To glory shall she rise!” But peace have I!

High diddle ding, did you hear the bells ring?
The parliament soldiers are gone to the king.
Some they did laugh, and some they did cry,
To see the parliament soldiers go by.

Her presence fans the frost of age to fire,
And sweeps raw youth flaming in strange desire.

Like an opium-lover,
I banish you,
All thought of you.
But wherever I send you,
Your two arms entwine me,
Drawing me there with you

So the wreckd mariner who tos'd on shore
Hears the wind whistle and the billows roar
Hous'd in some humble cot he vows in vain
Never to trust the faithless deep again
But warm'd and cloath'd to the first port repairs
And in a can of flip forgets his fears.
The Seamens Register he hastes to seek
And sets his name to sail within a week

Straight is the way to Acheron,
Whether the spirit's race is run
From Athens or from Meroë:
Weep not, far off from home to die;
The wind doth blow in every sky,
That wafts us to that doleful sea.

Thou art the Tree of Life in Paradise, Whose
lively branches are with clusters hung Of
lovely fruits, and flowers more sweet than spice Bend
down to us, and do outshine the sun. De-
lightful unto God, do man rejoice The
pleasant'st fruits in all God's Paradise.

Buzz-fly and gad-fly, dragon-fly and blue,
When you're in the trenches come and visit you,
They revel in your butter-dish and riot on your ham,
Drill upon the army cheese and loot the army jam.
They're with you in the dusk and the dawning and the noon,
They come in close formation, in column and platoon.
There's never zest like Tommy's zest when these have got to die:
For Tommy takes his puttees off and strafs the blooming fly.

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck could chuck wood?
He would chuck what wood a woodchuck would chuck,
If a woodchuck would chuck wood.

leaves of sweet rush
placed on the eaves—
this smell of the spa