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James Stephens poetry

Wednesday, March 30, 2016. There always is a noise when it is dark;. It is the noise of silence and the noise. The noise of silence and the noise of blindness. Do frighten me,. They hold me stark and rigid as a tree! These frighten me,. These hold me stark and rigid as a tree! Because at last their tumult is more loud. Songs From The Clay. Songs from the clay. The crooked paths go every way. Upon the hill—they wind about. Through the heather in and out. Of the quiet sunniness. Stray in sunny quietness,.

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James Stephens poetry | james-stephens.blogspot.com Reviews

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Wednesday, March 30, 2016. There always is a noise when it is dark;. It is the noise of silence and the noise. The noise of silence and the noise of blindness. Do frighten me,. They hold me stark and rigid as a tree! These frighten me,. These hold me stark and rigid as a tree! Because at last their tumult is more loud. Songs From The Clay. Songs from the clay. The crooked paths go every way. Upon the hill—they wind about. Through the heather in and out. Of the quiet sunniness. Stray in sunny quietness,.

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6 james stephens

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James Stephens poetry | james-stephens.blogspot.com Reviews

https://james-stephens.blogspot.com

Wednesday, March 30, 2016. There always is a noise when it is dark;. It is the noise of silence and the noise. The noise of silence and the noise of blindness. Do frighten me,. They hold me stark and rigid as a tree! These frighten me,. These hold me stark and rigid as a tree! Because at last their tumult is more loud. Songs From The Clay. Songs from the clay. The crooked paths go every way. Upon the hill—they wind about. Through the heather in and out. Of the quiet sunniness. Stray in sunny quietness,.

INTERNAL PAGES

james-stephens.blogspot.com

1

James Stephens poetry: The Breath of Life

http://james-stephens.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-breath-of-life.html

Thursday, July 23, 2015. The Breath of Life. And while they talked and talked, and while they sat. Changing their base minds into baser coin;. And telling — they! How truth and beauty join,. And how a certain this was good, but that. Was baser than the viper or the toad,. Or the blind beggar glaring down the road. I turned from them in fury, and I ran. To where the moon shone out upon the height,. Down the long reaches of a summer night,. Stretching slim fingers, and the starry clan. The slow withdrawal,...

2

James Stephens poetry: The Monkey's Cousin

http://james-stephens.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-monkeys-cousin.html

Thursday, July 23, 2015. I shall reach up, I shall grow. Till the high gods say — "Hello,. Little brother, you must stop. Ere our shoulders you o'ertop.". I shall grow up, I shall reach. Till the little gods beseech. 8212; "Master, wait a little, do,. We are running after you I". I shall bulk and swell and scale. Till the little gods shall quail,. Running here and there to hide. From the terror of my stride. The Hill of Vision. The hill of vision. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). 1913 - Here are Ladies.

3

James Stephens poetry: What the Devil Said

http://james-stephens.blogspot.com/2015/07/what-devil-said.html

Thursday, July 23, 2015. What the Devil Said. It was the night time, God the Father Good,. Weary of praises, on a sudden stood. Up from His throne and leaned upon the sky,. For He had heard a sound, a little cry,. Thin as a whisper climbing up the steep. And so he looked to where the Earth asleep. Rocked with the moon, He saw the whirling sea. Swing round the world in surgent energy,. Tangling the moonlight in its netted foam,. And nearer saw the white and fretted dome. The Hill of Vision. Said The Young...

4

James Stephens poetry: Chopin's Funeral March

http://james-stephens.blogspot.com/2015/07/chopins-funeral-march.html

Thursday, July 23, 2015. Yea, ye shall rest, O be sure that your sleep will endure:. Through the daylight, the dusk, and the dark, while the moon and the sun. Rise successive and fail and die down when the journey is done :. Ye shall rest, taking heed of no thing that shall come or shall go:. Ye shall sleep through the thunder nor heed when the hurricanes blow:. When the strong trees are felled and the rocks topple down from the height:. While the mountains dissolve into sand and the valleys upright.

5

James Stephens poetry: The Tree

http://james-stephens.blogspot.com/2015/07/the-tree.html

Thursday, July 23, 2015. I have a message you must bear. Unto a certain tree : I may not tell. Where she abides, only, she is more fair. Than any tree that grows down in the dell,. Or on the mountain top, or by the well,. Or as a lovely sentinel beside. The roaming stream. No words can speak her well,. Nor lyric sing enough her arms so wide,. Her grace, her peace, her innocence, her happy pride. Come quickly, Ballad, back to me again,. After you have delivered to the tree. Of her young veins whereat the ...

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James Stephens poetry

Wednesday, March 30, 2016. There always is a noise when it is dark;. It is the noise of silence and the noise. The noise of silence and the noise of blindness. Do frighten me,. They hold me stark and rigid as a tree! These frighten me,. These hold me stark and rigid as a tree! Because at last their tumult is more loud. Songs From The Clay. Songs from the clay. The crooked paths go every way. Upon the hill—they wind about. Through the heather in and out. Of the quiet sunniness. Stray in sunny quietness,.

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