Famous Long Recovery From Poems

Famous Long Recovery From Poems. Long Recovery From Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Recovery From long poems

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 ACT I. SC. I

Enter Teryth from riding, Winefred following.

T. WHAT is it, Gwen, my girl? why do you hover and haunt me? 

W. You came by Caerwys, sir? 
T. I came by Caerwys. 
W. There
Some messenger there might have met you from my uncle. 
T. Your uncle met the messenger—met me; and this the message:
Lord Beuno comes to-night. 
W. To-night, sir! 
T. Soon, now: therefore
Have all things ready in his room. 
W. There needs but little doing. 
T. Let what there needs be done. Stay! with him one companion,
His deacon, Dirvan Warm: twice over must the welcome be,
But both will share one cell.—This was good news, Gwenvrewi. 
W. Ah yes! 
T. Why, get thee gone then; tell thy mother I want her.

Exit Winefred.

No man has such a daughter. The fathers of the world
Call no such maiden ‘mine’. The deeper grows her dearness
And more and more times laces round and round my heart,
The more some monstrous hand gropes with clammy fingers there,
Tampering with those sweet bines, draws them out, strains them, strains them;
Meantime some tongue cries ‘What, Teryth! what, thou poor fond father!
How when this bloom, this honeysuckle, that rides the air so rich about thee,
Is all, all sheared away,...
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  By Derwent's side my Father's cottage stood,  (The Woman thus her artless story told)  One field, a flock, and what the neighbouring flood  Supplied, to him were more than mines of gold.  Light was my sleep; my days in transport roll'd:  With thoughtless joy I stretch'd along the shore  My father's nets, or from the mountain fold  Saw on the distant lake his twinkling oar  Or watch'd his lazy boat still less'ning more and more   My father was a good and pious man,  An honest man by honest parents bred,  And I believe that, soon as I began  To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,  And in his hearing there my prayers I said:  And afterwards, by my good father taught,  I read, and loved the books in which I read;  For books in every neighbouring house I sought,  And nothing to my mind a sweeter pleasure brought.   Can I forget what charms did once adorn  My garden, stored with pease, and mint, and thyme,  And rose and lilly for the sabbath morn?  The sabbath bells, and their delightful chime;  The gambols and wild freaks at shearing time;  My hen's rich nest through long grass scarce espied;  The cowslip-gathering at May's dewy prime;  The swans, that, when I sought the water-side,  From far to meet me came, spreading their snowy pride.   The...
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 I 
O THOU, that sit'st upon a throne, 
With harp of high majestic tone, 
 To praise the King of kings; 
And voice of heav'n-ascending swell, 
Which, while its deeper notes excell, 
 Clear, as a clarion, rings: 

 II 
To bless each valley, grove and coast, 
And charm the cherubs to the post 
 Of gratitude in throngs; 
To keep the days on Zion's mount, 
And send the year to his account, 
 With dances and with songs: 

 III 
O Servant of God's holiest charge, 
The minister of praise at large, 
 Which thou may'st now receive; 
From thy blest mansion hail and hear, 
From topmost eminence appear 
 To this the wreath I weave. 

 IV 
Great, valiant, pious, good, and clean, 
Sublime, contemplative, serene, 
 Strong, constant, pleasant, wise! 
Bright effluence of exceeding grace; 
Best man!—the swiftest and the race, 
 The peril, and the prize! 

 V 
Great—from the lustre of his crown, 
From Samuel's horn, and God's renown, 
 Which is the people's voice; 
For all the host, from rear to van, 
Applauded and embrac'd the man— 
 The man of God's own choice. 

 VI 
Valiant—the word, and up he rose; 
The...
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 Let Ramah rejoice with Cochineal. 

Let Gaba rejoice with the Prickly Pear, which the Cochineal feeds on. 

Let Nebo rejoice with the Myrtle-Leaved-Sumach as with the Skirret Jub. 2d. 

Let Magbish rejoice with the Sage-Tree Phlomis as with the Goatsbeard Jub: 2d. 

Let Hashum rejoice with Moon-Trefoil. 

Let Netophah rejoice with Cow-Wheat. 

Let Chephirah rejoice with Millet. 

Let Beeroth rejoice with Sea-Buckthorn. 

Let Kirjath-arim rejoice with Cacalianthemum. 

Let Hadid rejoice with Capsicum Guiney Pepper. 

Let Senaah rejoice with Bean Cape. 

Let Kadmiel rejoice with Hemp-Agrimony. 

Let Shobai rejoice with Arbor Molle. 

Let Hatita rejoice with Millefolium Yarrow. 

Let Ziha rejoice with Mitellia. 

Let Hasupha rejoice with Turky Balm. 

Let Hattil rejoice with Xeranthemum. 

Let Bilshan rejoice with the Leek. David for ever! God bless the Welch March 1st 1761. N.S. 

Let Sotai rejoice with the Mountain Ebony. 

Let Sophereth rejoice with White Hellebore. 

Let Darkon rejoice with the Melon-Thistle. 

Let Jaalah rejoice with Moly wild garlick. 

Let Ami rejoice with the Bladder Sena in season or out of season bless the name of the Lord. 

Let Pochereth rejoice with Fleabane. 

Let Keros rejoice with Tree Germander. 

Let Padon rejoice with Tamnus Black Briony. 

Let Mizpar rejoice with Stickadore. 

Let...
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 AGAINST THE GRAIN



“Oxford be silent, I this truth must write

Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite.”

 - William Dawson of Hackney, Nov.7th 1704



“The repressed becomes the poem”

 Louise Bogan





1



Well it’s Friday the thirteenth

So I’d better begin with luck

As I prepare for a journey to

The north, the place where I began

And I was lucky even before I

Was born for the red-hot shrapnel fell

And missed my mother by an inch

As she walked through the Blitz

In Bradford in nineteen forty-one.



Sydney Graham this poem is for you,

Although we never met, your feet

Have walked on the waters of poetic faith,

Hold out a hand for me to grasp,

A net to catch the dancing reflections

Of the midnight stars and smooth

The green tongue of the seawave

When it speaks to me as I slide

From my mother’s turning side.



For years I lived in the gardens

Of fire and flames robed time in

Memory and desire, icicles climbed

Six inches up the kitchen window

Then six inches down and six feet

Of snow lay against the POW’s as they

Marched with hefted shovels from

Knostrop’s cottage camp with curling

Smoke signalling from crooked stacks.





2



Yards from where I lay Hendry and

Moore sat in their attic conceiving

The Apocalypse and my natal stars

Were their ineffable words.

Shut off the telephone, I hear

Another...
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 THE PROLOGUE.


The Sompnour in his stirrups high he stood,
Upon this Friar his hearte was so wood,* *furious
That like an aspen leaf he quoke* for ire: *quaked, trembled
"Lordings," quoth he, "but one thing I desire;
I you beseech, that of your courtesy,
Since ye have heard this false Friar lie,
As suffer me I may my tale tell
This Friar boasteth that he knoweth hell,
And, God it wot, that is but little wonder,
Friars and fiends be but little asunder.
For, pardie, ye have often time heard tell,
How that a friar ravish'd was to hell
In spirit ones by a visioun,
And, as an angel led him up and down,
To shew him all the paines that there were,
In all the place saw he not a frere;
Of other folk he saw enough in woe.
Unto the angel spake the friar tho;* *then
'Now, Sir,' quoth he, 'have friars such a grace,
That none of them shall come into this place?'
'Yes' quoth the angel; 'many a millioun:'
And unto Satanas he led him down.
'And now hath Satanas,' said he, 'a tail
Broader than of a carrack is the sail.
Hold up thy tail, thou Satanas,' quoth he,
'Shew forth thine erse, and let the friar see
Where is the nest of friars in this place.'
And *less than half...
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