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Poets
Vain is the chiming of forgotten bellsThat the wind sways above a ruined shrine.Vainer his voice in whom no longer dwellsHunger that craves immortal..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Pennies
A few long-hoarded pennies in his handBehold him stand;A kilted Hedonist, perplexed and sad.The joy that once he had,The first delight of ownership..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Old Poets
(For Robert Cortez Holiday)If I should live in a forestAnd sleep underneath a tree,No grove of impudent saplingsWould make a home for me.I'd go where..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Rouge Bouquet
In a wood they call Rouge BouquetThere is a new-made grave today,Built by never a spade nor pickYet covered with earth 10 meters thick.There lie many..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Easter Week
'Romantic Ireland's dead and gone,It's with O'Leary in the grave.'Then, Yeats, what gave that Easter dawnA hue so radiantly brave?There was a rain of..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Trees
I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is prestAgainst the earth's sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Easter
The air is like a butterflyWith frail blue wings.The happy earth looks at the skyAnd sings.
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Dave Lilly
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used to be full of trout,But there's nothing there now but minnows; they say it is all fished out.I..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Citizen Of The World
No longer of Him be it said'He hath no place to lay His head.'In every land a constant lampFlames by His small and mighty camp.There is no strange..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Alarm Clocks
When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farmAcross green fields and yellow hills of hayThe little twittering birds laugh in his wayAnd poise triumphant..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
In Memory
ISerene and beautiful and very wise,Most erudite in curious Grecian lore,You lay and read your learned books, and boreA weight of unshed tears and..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Gates And Doors
There was a gentle hostler(And blessed be his name!)He opened up the stableThe night Our Lady came.Our Lady and Saint Joseph,He gave them food and..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Lionel Johnson
There was a murkier tinge in London's airAs if the honest fog blushed black for shame.Fools sang of sin, for other fools' acclaim,And Milton's wreath..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Madness
(For Sara Teasdale)The lonely farm, the crowded street,The palace and the slum,Give welcome to my silent feetAs, bearing gifts, I come.Last night a..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Love's Lantern
(For Aline)Because the road was steep and longAnd through a dark and lonely land,God set upon my lips a songAnd put a lantern in my hand.Through..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Kings
The Kings of the earth are men of might,And cities are burned for their delight,And the skies rain death in the silent night,And the hills belch..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
In Memory Of Rupert Brooke
In alien earth, across a troubled sea,His body lies that was so fair and young.His mouth is stopped, with half his songs unsung;His arm is still..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Father Gerard Hopkins, S. J.
Why didst thou carve thy speech laboriously,And match and blend thy words with curious art?For Song, one saith, is but a human heartSpeaking aloud..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Folly
(For A. K. K.)What distant mountains thrill and glowBeneath our Lady Folly's tread?Why has she left us, wise in woe,Shrewd, practical, uncomforted?We..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
A Blue Valentine
(For Aline)Monsignore,Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus,Sometime of Interamna, which is called Ferni,Now of the delightful Court of Heaven,I..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Mount Houvenkopf
Serene he stands, with mist serenely crowned,And draws a cloak of trees about his breast.The thunder roars but cannot break his restAnd from his..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Mid-Ocean In War-Time
The fragile splendour of the level sea,The moon's serene and silver-veiled face,Make of this vessel an enchanted placeFull of white mirth and golden..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Martin
When I am tired of earnest men,Intense and keen and sharp and clever,Pursuing fame with brush or penOr counting metal disks forever,Then from the..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Main Street
(For S.M.L.)I like to look at the blossomy track of the moon upon the sea,But it isn't half so fine a sight as Main Street used to beWhen it all was..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer
Multiplication
I take my leave, with sorrow, of Him I love so well;I look my last upon His small and radiant prison-cell;O happy lamp! to serve Him with never..
© Alfred Joyce Kilmer