Poet Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound Poems

  • 201.  
  • 202.  
    Ha' we lost the goodliest fere o' all
    For the priests and the gallows tree? Aye lover he was of brawny men,
  • 203.  
    You say that I take a good deal upon myself;
    That I strut in the robes of assumption.
  • 204.  
    My name is Nunty Cormorant
    And my finance is sound, I lend you Englishmen hot air
  • 205.  
    Phyllidula and the Spoils of Gouvernet
  • 206.  
    â??Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead.
    Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all, And weave ye him his coronal.â??
  • 207.  
    The petals fall in the fountain,
    the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
  • 208.  
    â??Tis but a vague, invarious delight
    As gold that rains about some buried king.
  • 209.  
    O woe, woe,
    People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon
  • 210.  
    The salmon-trout drifts in the stream,
    The soul of the salmon-trout floats over the stream Like a little wafer of light.
  • 211.  
    When, when, and whenever death closes our eyelids,
    Moving naked over Acheron
  • 212.  
    I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me
    Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior
  • 213.  
    Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea,
    London has swept about you this score years And bright ships left you this or that in fee:
  • 214.  
    With Usura
    With usura hath no man a house of good stone
  • 215.  
    Who am I to condemn you, O Dives,
    I who am as much embittered With poverty
  • 216.  
    Four and forty lovers had Agathas in the old days, All of whom she refused;
  • 217.  
    Aye you're a man that ! ye old mesmerizer
    Tyin' your meanin' in seventy swadelin's, One must of needs be a hang'd early riser
  • 218.  
    Rudyard the dud yard,
    Rudyard the false measure, Told 'em that glory
  • 219.  
    For three years, out of key with his time,
    He strove to resuscitate the dead art Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
  • 220.  
    Half a loaf, half a loaf,
    Half a loaf? Urn-hum? Down through the vale of gloom
  • 221.  
    Because a lady asks me, I would tell
    Of an affect that comes often and is fell And is so overweening; Love by name.
  • 222.  
    The clouds have gathered, and gathered, and the rain falls and falls,
  • 223.  
    Gladstone was still respected,
    When John Ruskin produced 'King's Treasuries'; Swinburne
  • 224.  
    The girl in the tea shop
    Is not so beautiful as she was, The August has worn against her.
  • 225.  
    Thou keep'st thy rose-leaf
    Till the rose-time will be over, Think'st thou that Death will kiss thee?
  • 226.  
    Scarce and thin, scarce and thin
  • 227.  
    Kung walked
    by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove,
  • 228.  
    And the days are not full enough
    And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mouse
  • 229.  
    Come, let us pity those who are better off than we are.
    Come, my friend, and remember       that the rich have butlers and no friends,
  • 230.  
    On a certain one's departure
    â??Time's bitter flood'! Oh, that's all very well,
  • 231.  
    Another's a half-cracked fellowâ??John Heydon,
    Worker of miracles, dealer in levitation, In thoughts upon pure form, in alchemy,
  • 232.  
    Her grave, sweet haughtiness
    Pleaseth me, and in like wise Her quiet ironies.
  • 233.  
  • 234.  
    Leucis, who intended a Grand Passion,
    Ends with a willingness-to-oblige.
  • 235.  
    This thing, that hath a code and not a core,
    Hath set acquaintance where might be affections, And nothing now
  • 236.  
    Fu I
    Fu I loved the high cloud and the hill,
  • 237.  
    Let us build here an exquisite friendship,
    The flame, the autumn, and the green rose of love Fought out their strife here, 'tis a place of wonder;
  • 238.  
    God! that mad'st her well regard her, How she is so fair and bonny;
  • 239.  
    Towards the Noel that morte saison
    (Christ make the shepherds' homage dear!) Then when the grey wolves everychone
  • 240.  
    Why does the horse-faced lady of just the unmentionable age
    Walk down Longacre reciting Swinburne to herself, inaudibly? Why does the small child in the soiled-white imitation fur coat
  • 241.  
    IN o more for us the little sighing.
    No more the winds at twilight trouble us.
  • 242.  
    Lo, how it gleams and glistens in the sun
    Like the cheek of a Chesterton.
  • 243.  
    These fought in any case,
    and some believing pro domo, in any case .....
  • 244.  
    For a moment she rested against me
    Like a swallow half blown to the wall, And they talk of Swinburne's women,
  • 245.  
    She passed and left no quiver in the veins, who now
    Moving among the trees, and clinging in the air she severed,
  • 246.  
    Candidia has taken a new lover
    And three poets are gone into mourning. The first has written a long elegy to 'Chloris',
  • 247.  
    Green arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
    Crushed strawberries! Come, let us feast our eyes.
  • 248.  
    When the nightingale to his mate
  • 249.  
    When I was only a youngster,
    Sing: toodle doodlede ootl Ole Kate would git her 'arf a pint
  • 250.  
    When I was only a youngster,
    Sing: toodle doodlede ootl Ole Kate would git her 'arf a pint
Total 257 poems written by Ezra Pound

Poem of the day

Beowulf (Episode 07)
 by Anonymous Olde English

HROTHGAR spake, the Scyldings'-helmet: --
"For fight defensive, Friend my Beowulf,
to succor and save, thou hast sought us here.
Thy father's combat a feud enkindled
when Heatholaf with hand he slew
among the Wylfings; his Weder kin
for horror of fighting feared to hold him.
Fleeing, he sought our South-Dane folk,

Read complete poem

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