Famous Sledges Poems by Famous Poets

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...ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes,
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel.
Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle,
Down the hillside hounding, they glided away o'er the meadow.
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters,
Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow
Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its fledglings;
Lucky was he who found that stone i...Read more of this...

...fire
that touches neither time nor space.

Coldly the wind blows
against the old homestead,
in the yard pale folk,
sledges, baggage, lamps covered with snow,

in the pots death,
in the pitchers poison,
the last will nailed to a post.

The hidden thing
under the rocks' claws,
the opening into night,
the terror of death
thrust into flesh like stinging salt.

Let us go down
in the language of angels
to the broken bricks of Babel....Read more of this...

...All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding 
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul 
sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer, 
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.

In April you pulled cartloads of manure to spread on the fields, 
dark manure of Holsteins, and knobs of your own clustered with oats.
All summer you mowed the grass in meadow and hayfield, the mowing machine 
clacketing beside...Read more of this...

...All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul
sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer,
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.

In April you pulled cartloads of manure to spread on the fields,
dark manure of Holsteins, and knobs of your own clustered with oats.
All summer you mowed the grass in meadow and hayfield, the mowing machine
clacketing beside you,...Read more of this...

...must rise and go, 
For I have a mighty way to ride 
To the land of the Esquimaux. 

"And it's there I must load my sledges up, 
With the reindeers four-in-hand, 
That go to the North, South, East, and West, 
To every Christian land." 

"Tae the Esquimaux," said the dour guidwife, 
"Ye suit my husband well!" 
For when he gets up on his journey horse 
He's a bit of a liar himsel'." 

Then out with a laugh went the bonny wee man 
To his old horse grazing nigh, 
And ...Read more of this...

...der those muscular arms! 

There by the furnace, and there by the anvil, 
Behold thy sturdy blacksmiths, swinging their sledges; 
Overhand so steady—overhand they turn and fall, with joyous clank,
Like a tumult of laughter. 

Behold! (for still the procession moves,) 
Behold, Mother of All, thy countless sailors, boatmen, coasters! 
The myriads of thy young and old mechanics! 
Mark—mark the spirit of invention everywhere—thy rapid patents,
Thy continual workshops, foundri...Read more of this...

...I

Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bel...Read more of this...

...g of the Dead -- in the North by the torn berg-edges --
They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges.
Song of the Dead in the South -- in the sun by their skeleton horses,
Where the warrigal whimpers and bays through the dust of the sere river-courses.

Song of the Dead in the East -- in the heat-rotted jungle-hollows,
Where the dog-ape barks in the kloof -- in the brake of the buffalo-wallows.

Song of the Dead in the West in the Barren...Read more of this...

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