A Blind Fisherman
I teach my friend, a fisherman gone blind, to cast
true left, right or center and how far
between lily pads and the fallen cedar. . . .
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The Bloody Sire
It is not bad. Let them play.
Let the guns bark and the bombing-plane
Speak his prodigious blasphemies. . . .
"Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind"
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude; . . .
The Blues Don’t Change
And I was born with you, wasn’t I, Blues?
Wombed with you, wounded, reared and forwarded
from address to address, stamped, stomped . . .
A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July — . . .
Boy and Egg
Every few minutes, he wants
to march the trail of flattened rye grass
back to the house of muttering . . .
Break, Break, Break
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter . . .
Break of Day
‘Tis true, ‘tis day, what though it be?
O wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise because ‘tis light? . . .
Break of Day in the Trenches
The darkness crumbles away.
It is the same old druid Time as ever,
Only a live thing leaps my hand,
. . .
Bright Star
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart, . . .
