https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Sun, 28 Jun 2026 23:24:50 +0000 MyBB https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22981 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 15:52:11 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22981

Mortality is on me like the sleep
Of one who dreams on banks of pleasant flowers.
I hear the humming of gold-girdled hours
Whirling along the sunshine, feel the deep

and shadowy stillness into which they creep,
Dropping like honeyed bees into their bowers.
Such gracious dreams brings this long sleep of ours,
Such gracious dreams I know not how to weep.

The world I have forsaken for my dream.
A strange and lingering sweetness haunts me yet,
A visionary presence, and a light
Creeps 'twixt my eyelidd, like the slender beam
Piercing the filmy primrose, folded tight,
And wrapped in sleep, I cannot all forget.]]>

Mortality is on me like the sleep
Of one who dreams on banks of pleasant flowers.
I hear the humming of gold-girdled hours
Whirling along the sunshine, feel the deep

and shadowy stillness into which they creep,
Dropping like honeyed bees into their bowers.
Such gracious dreams brings this long sleep of ours,
Such gracious dreams I know not how to weep.

The world I have forsaken for my dream.
A strange and lingering sweetness haunts me yet,
A visionary presence, and a light
Creeps 'twixt my eyelidd, like the slender beam
Piercing the filmy primrose, folded tight,
And wrapped in sleep, I cannot all forget.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22980 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 15:45:01 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22980

My silences are not my own, for lo
Thy speech is in them always; I abide
In waiting for thee, as the eventide
Expects the dew; and that thou art, I know,

And what thou art I know not, but I go
Hearing thy voice always, far and wide,
Strange in its bidding, not to be denied,
Deeper than thought, since thou wilt have it so,

For when my thoughts are silent every one,
Like vanished rain, and all my heart is bare
Of any wistful dream that comes and goes,
Thy speach falls on me subtle as the sun,
And I receive thee as the summer air
Is touched with the slow blooming of the rose.]]>

My silences are not my own, for lo
Thy speech is in them always; I abide
In waiting for thee, as the eventide
Expects the dew; and that thou art, I know,

And what thou art I know not, but I go
Hearing thy voice always, far and wide,
Strange in its bidding, not to be denied,
Deeper than thought, since thou wilt have it so,

For when my thoughts are silent every one,
Like vanished rain, and all my heart is bare
Of any wistful dream that comes and goes,
Thy speach falls on me subtle as the sun,
And I receive thee as the summer air
Is touched with the slow blooming of the rose.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22979 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 15:36:49 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22979

When all my will drops from me like a shroud
From the fair dead when they go up on high,
And leaves my soul like sky, blue sky, all sky,
Without a wind or sunshine or the loud
Incessant flitting of the thoughts that crowd
Like swallows to the summer time, then I,
Looking straight upward through myself, descry
A beautiful face more vague than wind or cloud
That from its Heaven searches into mine
And bends to me, even as a star to star.
But if I think, back will the faint clouds roll.
Sometimes I wonder if it be divine -
If that be God, up there where no thoughts are -
Or if I see the face of my own soul.]]>

When all my will drops from me like a shroud
From the fair dead when they go up on high,
And leaves my soul like sky, blue sky, all sky,
Without a wind or sunshine or the loud
Incessant flitting of the thoughts that crowd
Like swallows to the summer time, then I,
Looking straight upward through myself, descry
A beautiful face more vague than wind or cloud
That from its Heaven searches into mine
And bends to me, even as a star to star.
But if I think, back will the faint clouds roll.
Sometimes I wonder if it be divine -
If that be God, up there where no thoughts are -
Or if I see the face of my own soul.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22978 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 15:10:40 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22978

What? Thou art jealous of my past, while yet
I was unknown to thee, while my first years
Were sweet without thee, and with my own tears,
Not thine, Belovéd, my young eyes were wet?

But I can tell thee that before we met
Thy splendor dropped athwart those golden spheres
Which were my childhood. All my joys and fears
Were strangely double. I shall not forget

That look I loved so in my mothers eyes.
Her glance I think did so contain thine own
I felt a dim foreshadowing cast on me
And resd thy star concealed amid her skies.
I cannot remember that first look alone
Without some reminiscences of thee.]]>

What? Thou art jealous of my past, while yet
I was unknown to thee, while my first years
Were sweet without thee, and with my own tears,
Not thine, Belovéd, my young eyes were wet?

But I can tell thee that before we met
Thy splendor dropped athwart those golden spheres
Which were my childhood. All my joys and fears
Were strangely double. I shall not forget

That look I loved so in my mothers eyes.
Her glance I think did so contain thine own
I felt a dim foreshadowing cast on me
And resd thy star concealed amid her skies.
I cannot remember that first look alone
Without some reminiscences of thee.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22977 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 15:03:02 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22977

Who is there that can pipe up buds unblown,
Who is there that can charme the winds that pass,
And who is there can lead the early grass
To press another way than it has grown?

To many another has my spirit flown,
But never has it found that one, alas!
Who could shed himself on everything that was,
Like wind on water, sunshine upon stone.

These are all haunted by so great a might
No other power can tame them. Their vague eyes
Are full of dawns and shadows of surprise,
And they are aureoled with their own light.
Grass has its Heaven and the winds their skies.
They wot not of us with their wistful sight.]]>

Who is there that can pipe up buds unblown,
Who is there that can charme the winds that pass,
And who is there can lead the early grass
To press another way than it has grown?

To many another has my spirit flown,
But never has it found that one, alas!
Who could shed himself on everything that was,
Like wind on water, sunshine upon stone.

These are all haunted by so great a might
No other power can tame them. Their vague eyes
Are full of dawns and shadows of surprise,
And they are aureoled with their own light.
Grass has its Heaven and the winds their skies.
They wot not of us with their wistful sight.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22976 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 14:49:08 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22976

I am distraught with singing. In my brain
I feell a presence ever, and a might
Pursues my soul in flashes of long light
Or soft as throbbing of a golden rain,

Till my whole spirit melts into refrain
And I am wakened even in the night
By delicate visions that beset my sight,
The clinging sweetness of a perfect strain.

I am distraught with singing! Never more
Shall I go with my friends in the old ways.
In other orbits do my paths belong
And other hands will beckon me before.
God sets a wonder upon all my days,
And I am haunted always by a song.]]>

I am distraught with singing. In my brain
I feell a presence ever, and a might
Pursues my soul in flashes of long light
Or soft as throbbing of a golden rain,

Till my whole spirit melts into refrain
And I am wakened even in the night
By delicate visions that beset my sight,
The clinging sweetness of a perfect strain.

I am distraught with singing! Never more
Shall I go with my friends in the old ways.
In other orbits do my paths belong
And other hands will beckon me before.
God sets a wonder upon all my days,
And I am haunted always by a song.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22975 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 14:39:39 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22975

I better like that shadowed side of things
In which the Poets wrote not; when they went
Unto the fullness of their great content
Like moths into the grass with folded wings.

The silence of the Poets with it brings
The other side of moons, and it is spent
in love, in sorrow, or in wonderment.
After the silence, maybe a bird sings.

I have heard call, as Summer calls the swallow,
A leisure, bidding unto ways serene
To be a child of winds and the blue hazes.
"Dream" - quoth the Danner - and 't is sweet to follow!
So Keats watched stars rise from his meadows green,
And Chaucer spent his hours among the daisies.]]>

I better like that shadowed side of things
In which the Poets wrote not; when they went
Unto the fullness of their great content
Like moths into the grass with folded wings.

The silence of the Poets with it brings
The other side of moons, and it is spent
in love, in sorrow, or in wonderment.
After the silence, maybe a bird sings.

I have heard call, as Summer calls the swallow,
A leisure, bidding unto ways serene
To be a child of winds and the blue hazes.
"Dream" - quoth the Danner - and 't is sweet to follow!
So Keats watched stars rise from his meadows green,
And Chaucer spent his hours among the daisies.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22974 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 14:30:13 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22974

Come gently, Sleep, and let me rest to-night
With no disturbing dream of angel's wings.
Bring no song in thy heart that sings and sings
Like a bird amid thy skies of calm delight.

Oh wake me not with these, but heal my sight
Of inner visions, cure the subtle stings
Of too great pleasure, lull the murmurings
Of thy dear dreams! Oh, do not shine so bright!

For I would rest and stint myself to thought.
Nay, get thee from my sleep, thou lovely dear!
Why wilt thou gather round me so, enringing?
And then a voice replies, "His hand has wroght
A sound in thy soul's raiment thou dost hear,
Poor child, that cannot rid thyself of singing."]]>

Come gently, Sleep, and let me rest to-night
With no disturbing dream of angel's wings.
Bring no song in thy heart that sings and sings
Like a bird amid thy skies of calm delight.

Oh wake me not with these, but heal my sight
Of inner visions, cure the subtle stings
Of too great pleasure, lull the murmurings
Of thy dear dreams! Oh, do not shine so bright!

For I would rest and stint myself to thought.
Nay, get thee from my sleep, thou lovely dear!
Why wilt thou gather round me so, enringing?
And then a voice replies, "His hand has wroght
A sound in thy soul's raiment thou dost hear,
Poor child, that cannot rid thyself of singing."]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22973 Sun, 06 Jan 2013 14:22:38 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22973 Yet wistful with the morning, and who throng
Silently yet with the first love of song
And ways made delicate with your surprise,

On whom the seal and the fair promise lies,
Come up to the broad ways where ye belong
Paven with golden echoings and strong
As stalwart stars set close along the skies.

As surely will ye come from the dim years
As changes, seasons, or as unborn daisies.
We doubt these not, nor ye, who are God's own,
But bit ye welcome to our songless spheres
And watch lest he who most deserves our praises
Shall come forsaken, bleeding and alone.]]> Yet wistful with the morning, and who throng
Silently yet with the first love of song
And ways made delicate with your surprise,

On whom the seal and the fair promise lies,
Come up to the broad ways where ye belong
Paven with golden echoings and strong
As stalwart stars set close along the skies.

As surely will ye come from the dim years
As changes, seasons, or as unborn daisies.
We doubt these not, nor ye, who are God's own,
But bit ye welcome to our songless spheres
And watch lest he who most deserves our praises
Shall come forsaken, bleeding and alone.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16435 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:33:09 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16435
This day into the fields my steps are led.
I cannot heal me there! Row after row,
Thousands of daisies radiantly blow.
They have not brought from Heaven my daily bread!
But they are like a prayer too often said.
I have forgot their meaning, and I go
From the cold rubric of their gold and snow,
And the calm ritual, all uncomforted.
I want the faces! faces! remote and pale,
That surge along the city streets! The flood
Of reckless ones, haggard and spent and frail,
Excited, hungry! In this other mood
'T is not the words of the faith for which I ail,
But to plunge in the fountain of its living blood.]]>
This day into the fields my steps are led.
I cannot heal me there! Row after row,
Thousands of daisies radiantly blow.
They have not brought from Heaven my daily bread!
But they are like a prayer too often said.
I have forgot their meaning, and I go
From the cold rubric of their gold and snow,
And the calm ritual, all uncomforted.
I want the faces! faces! remote and pale,
That surge along the city streets! The flood
Of reckless ones, haggard and spent and frail,
Excited, hungry! In this other mood
'T is not the words of the faith for which I ail,
But to plunge in the fountain of its living blood.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16434 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:32:20 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16434
Shame on thee, O Manhattan, whom I love!
And shame on me that I have slept away
So many years while thy feet went astray!
O Thou--that should'st be white as any dove,
Thou Scarlet Woman! Is there no voice to move--
No hand to smite us? Even for this I pray--
Some terrible scourging that we have let the day
Darken around us while we saw thee rove.
Last night I heard thee cry. Thy wandering feet
Went bleeding by me. On thy ruined breast
I saw thee nurse a feeding child of flame!
Desolate, gorgeous, frantic along the street!
Ah, how I blushed in the dark that through my rest
I felt the burning garments of thy shame.]]>
Shame on thee, O Manhattan, whom I love!
And shame on me that I have slept away
So many years while thy feet went astray!
O Thou--that should'st be white as any dove,
Thou Scarlet Woman! Is there no voice to move--
No hand to smite us? Even for this I pray--
Some terrible scourging that we have let the day
Darken around us while we saw thee rove.
Last night I heard thee cry. Thy wandering feet
Went bleeding by me. On thy ruined breast
I saw thee nurse a feeding child of flame!
Desolate, gorgeous, frantic along the street!
Ah, how I blushed in the dark that through my rest
I felt the burning garments of thy shame.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16433 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:31:26 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16433
Has he no country? Is he of alien breed?
Is this land not his home? Oh, exiled one!
Stranger to his own kind, where does he run?
How he has shamed us, for the world to read!
Oh, carrion, prowling where this people bleed,
Grown fat upon disaster, hide from the sun!
A scornful nation asks, what has he done
With the public trust, the honor, and the need.
Not him with glorious hand will we indite,
Patriot, Statesman, in the Hall of Fame,
Nor will we let him flee into the night
Of safe oblivion! But oh--that name
For our sons' sons a moving hand shall write
In scarlet letters on the walls of Shame.]]>
Has he no country? Is he of alien breed?
Is this land not his home? Oh, exiled one!
Stranger to his own kind, where does he run?
How he has shamed us, for the world to read!
Oh, carrion, prowling where this people bleed,
Grown fat upon disaster, hide from the sun!
A scornful nation asks, what has he done
With the public trust, the honor, and the need.
Not him with glorious hand will we indite,
Patriot, Statesman, in the Hall of Fame,
Nor will we let him flee into the night
Of safe oblivion! But oh--that name
For our sons' sons a moving hand shall write
In scarlet letters on the walls of Shame.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16432 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:30:42 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16432 I. New York at Sunrise

When with her clouds the early dawn illumes
Our doubtful streets, wistful they grow and mild
As if a sleeping soul grew happy and smiled,
The whole dark city radiantly blooms.
Pale spires lift their hands above the glooms
Like a resurrection, delicately wild,
And flushed with slumber like a little child,
Under a mist, shines forth the innocent Tombs.
Thus have I seen it from a casement high.
As unsubstantial as a dream it grows.
Is this Manhattan, virginal and shy,
That in a cloud so rapturously glows?
Ethereal, frail, and like an opening rose,
I see my city with an enlightened eye.]]> I. New York at Sunrise

When with her clouds the early dawn illumes
Our doubtful streets, wistful they grow and mild
As if a sleeping soul grew happy and smiled,
The whole dark city radiantly blooms.
Pale spires lift their hands above the glooms
Like a resurrection, delicately wild,
And flushed with slumber like a little child,
Under a mist, shines forth the innocent Tombs.
Thus have I seen it from a casement high.
As unsubstantial as a dream it grows.
Is this Manhattan, virginal and shy,
That in a cloud so rapturously glows?
Ethereal, frail, and like an opening rose,
I see my city with an enlightened eye.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16431 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:29:53 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16431
When I, before the altars of repose,
Invited Slumber, she refused to stay,
But with a broken heart she turned away,
Astonished quite. Among the flaunting shows
That circled round, she perished like a rose
Cast among flames. Oh, bring her back--I pray!
Then sternly to my heart a voice said, "Nay,
Thou canst not have her--tearfully she goes."
God might not join us,--for gorgeous, bright,
Adorned, conspicuous, sure, without disguise,
Strangely illumined with derisive light
They danced -- they danced! Oh, then I was made wise!
My foolish deeds, flaming before my eyes,
Denied me slumber all the livelong night.]]>
When I, before the altars of repose,
Invited Slumber, she refused to stay,
But with a broken heart she turned away,
Astonished quite. Among the flaunting shows
That circled round, she perished like a rose
Cast among flames. Oh, bring her back--I pray!
Then sternly to my heart a voice said, "Nay,
Thou canst not have her--tearfully she goes."
God might not join us,--for gorgeous, bright,
Adorned, conspicuous, sure, without disguise,
Strangely illumined with derisive light
They danced -- they danced! Oh, then I was made wise!
My foolish deeds, flaming before my eyes,
Denied me slumber all the livelong night.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16430 Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:29:20 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=16430
When I am weary for delight and spent,
Even as a bird that tries too long its wings
Will nest awhile amid the grass and sings,
So I drop downward from the wonderment
Of timelessness and space, in which were blent
The wind, the sunshine and the wanderings
Of all the planets--to the little things
That are my grass and flowers and am content.
Or if in flight my wings should beat so far
From the kind grass that is so cool and deep
That it must poise among the winds on high--
Yet will I sing to thee from star to star,
Piercing thy sunshine, and will always keep
A song for thee amid the farthest sky.]]>
When I am weary for delight and spent,
Even as a bird that tries too long its wings
Will nest awhile amid the grass and sings,
So I drop downward from the wonderment
Of timelessness and space, in which were blent
The wind, the sunshine and the wanderings
Of all the planets--to the little things
That are my grass and flowers and am content.
Or if in flight my wings should beat so far
From the kind grass that is so cool and deep
That it must poise among the winds on high--
Yet will I sing to thee from star to star,
Piercing thy sunshine, and will always keep
A song for thee amid the farthest sky.]]>