Adelaide Crapsey Poems

Adelaide Crapsey Poems

Milking Time

Heard ye the maidensWent through the meadows,Early, O, early,While yet the dew wasWet on the grass?Heard ye the milk-maidsSinging and singing? ‘Cushy cow bonny let down your milk,And I will give you a gown of silk,A gown of silk asnd a silver tee,If you will let down your milk to me.’ Hear ye the maidens,Over …

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John A Dream

John A Dream, A laggard in the rear of time’s swift feet,And one who loiters on an aimless wayThrough lands he knows not; lured by birds to strayIn secret paths where silence holds the beatAnd rust ascending wings. Roads meet;He turns by hazard of some far-glimpsed sprayOf blossoming tree. Shall condemnation say,Unprofitable! Empty thy days …

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John Keats

Meet thou the eventAnd terrible happening ofThine end: for thou are comeUpon the remote, cold placeOf ultimate dissolution andWith dumb, wide lookThou, impotent, dost feelImpotence creeping onThy potent soul. Yea, now, caught inThe aghast and voiceless painOf Death, thyself doth watchThyself becoming naught. Peace. . Peace. . for atThe last is comfort. Lo, nowThou hast …

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Incantation Poem

Incantation Poem O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna!(You must say it nine times, curtseying, and then wish.) In rose-pale, fading blue of twilight sky, See, the new moon’s thin crescent shining clear; Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring mystic words, – And wish good fortune to our love, my dear.

Endymion Poem

Endymion Poem ‘Let me be young,’ the Latmian shepherd prayed,‘And let me have on night-time hills long sleep;’Whom she of Cynthus saw, Heaven’s crowne`d maid,And gave his youth and dreams her love to keep. What news comrade upon the mountain topFrom the courts of the sun? What news from the skiesWhen great Orion strides the …

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Doom

Peter stands by the gate, And Michael by the throne. ‘Peter, I would pass the gate And come before the throne.’ ‘Whose spirit prayed never at the gate In life nor at the throne, In death he may not pass the gate To come before the throne:’ Peter said from the gate; Said Michael from …

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Dirge

Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still Tap at thy window-sill, Though ever love call and call Thou wilt not hear at all, My dear, my dear.

Cinquains

Fate Defied As itWere tissue of silverI’ll wear, O fate, thy grey,And go mistily radiant, cladLike the moon. Night Winds The oldOld winds that blewWhen chaos was, what doThey tell the clattered trees that IShould weep? The Warning Just now,Out of the strangeStill dusk . . . as strange, as still . . .A white …

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