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Apothegmatic
Only love a bard
for the company and the wine,
as a king
is a ladder to the crown.
Poems on the topic: crown
Poems on the topic “crown” on Poets.by.
Rosebush
Great company
is the rosebush,
hip to fine-dressed hip
like a queen, with
the strictness of the poor
who cannot buy a crown.
Æcerbot
We come close to the land, eat
nothing but peas and pork
and boiled beef,
eat with great love,
shit with all imaginable respect
the land
infinite place
rich world.
I see a man almost drowned in joy
give honor to an oak
with a gilded crown.
Nursery rhyme
I went to my office, I went to the palace—
a swan to the swan.
I brought a bull to the chamber
and rattled the crown.
The Player Queen
My mother dandled me and sang,
'How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.
'He went away,' my mother sang,
'When I was brought to bed,'
And all the while her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.
She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she had dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.
'When she was got,' my mother sang,
'I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of the yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh.'
Crowned
I WEAR a crown invisible and clear,
And go my lifted royal way apart
Since you have crowned me softly in your heart
With love that is half ardent, half austere;
And as a queen disguised might pass anear
The bitter crowd that barters in a mart,
Veiling her pride while tears of pity start,
I hide my glory thru a jealous fear.
My crown shall stay a sweet and secret thing
Kept pure with prayer at evensong and morn,
And when you come to take it from my head,
I shall not weep, nor will a word be said,
But I shall kneel before you, oh my king,
And bind my brow forever with a thorn.
The Nights Remember
The days remember and the nights remember
The kingly hours that once you made so great,
Deep in my heart they lie, hidden in their splendor,
Buried like sovereigns in their robes of state.
Let them not wake again, better to lie there,
Wrapped in memories, jewelled and arrayed--
Many a ghostly king has waked from death-sleep
And found his crown stolen and his throne decayed.
A Fragment
One sunset when the skies were deepest red,
As if they blushed for all the human sins,
I saw her gather daffodils, and sighed.
For she was sweeter far than those poor flowers
And all the flowers that grace this universe.
And in my dream I saw a crown descend
From out the firmament and drop to earth.
It fell beside a brook whose gleaming drops
Shone like the diamonds in the sable night.
And I, the humblest in the realm of men.
Stooped low and placed it on her bonny head.
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