Dolphin

My Dolphin, you only guide me by surprise,
a captive as Racine, the man of craft,
drawn through his maze of iron composition
by the incomparable wandering voice of Phèdre.
When I was troubled in mind, you made for my body
caught in its hangman's-knot of sinking lines,
the glassy bowing and scraping of my will....
I have sat and listened to too many
words of the collaborating muse,
and plotted perhaps too freely with my life,
not avoiding injury to others,
not avoiding injury to myself
to ask compassion... this book, half fiction,
an eelnet made by man for the eel fighting
my eyes have seen what my hand did.

Robert Lowell

Robert Lowell was an American poet known for his confessional style, which was influential in the mid-20th century. Born on March 1, 1917, in Boston, Massachusetts, he came from a prominent family. Lowell's poetry often dealt with personal and historical themes. He won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1947 and 1974. His most noted collections include 'Life Studies' and 'For the Union Dead.' Lowell's work was marked by its intensity and his struggles with mental illness.

Robert Lowell

Children Of Light

Robert Lowell, Simple Poetry

Skunk Hour

Robert Lowell, Simple Poetry

To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage

Robert Lowell, Simple Poetry

Epilogue

Robert Lowell, Simple Poetry

English

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Epilogue

Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?
I hear the noise of my own voice:
The painter's vision is not a lens,
it trembles to caress the light.
But sometimes everything I write
with the threadbare art of my eye
seems a snapshot,
lurid, rapid, garish, grouped,
heightened from life,
yet paralyzed by fact.
All's misalliance.
Yet why not say what happened?
Pray for the grace of accuracy
Vermeer gave to the sun's illumination
stealing like the tide across a map
to his girl solid with yearning.
We are poor passing facts,
warned by that to give
each figure in the photograph
his living name.

Robert Lowell

The Monkey And The Dolphin.

^[1]

It was the custom of the Greeks
For passengers o'er sea to carry
Both monkeys full of tricks
And funny dogs to make them merry.
A ship, that had such things on deck,
Not far from Athens, went to wreck.
But for the dolphins, all had drown'd.
They are a philanthropic fish,
Which fact in Pliny may be found; -
A better voucher who could wish?
They did their best on this occasion.
A monkey even, on their plan
Well nigh attain'd his own salvation;
A dolphin took him for a man,
And on his dorsal gave him place.
So grave the silly creature's face,
That one might well have set him down
That old musician of renown.^[2]
The fish had almost reach'd the land,
When, as it happen'd, - what a pity! -
He ask'd, 'Are you f...

Jean de La Fontaine

By The Sea.

I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me,

And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.

But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,

And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion's sleeve --
And then I started too.

And he -- he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, -- then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.

Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Seashore

I heard or seemed to hear the chiding Sea
Say, Pilgrim, why so late and slow to come?
Am I not always here, thy summer home?
Is not my voice thy music, morn and eve?
My breath thy healthful climate in the heats,
My touch thy antidote, my bay thy bath?
Was ever building like my terraces?
Was ever couch magnificent as mine?
Lie on the warm rock-ledges, and there learn
A little hut suffices like a town.
I make your sculptured architecture vain,
Vain beside mine. I drive my wedges home,
And carve the coastwise mountain into caves.
Lo! here is Rome and Nineveh and Thebes,
Karnak and Pyramid and Giant's Stairs
Half piled or prostrate; and my newest slab
Older than all thy race.

Behold the Sea,
The opaline, the plentiful and strong,
Yet beautiful...

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Man And Wife

Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother's bed;
the rising sun in war paint dyes us red;
in broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine,
abandoned, almost Dionysian.
At last the trees are green on Marlborough Street,
blossoms on our magnolia ignite
the morning with their murderous five days' white.
All night I've held your hand,
as if you had
a fourth time faced the kingdom of the mad,
its hackneyed speech, its homicidal eye,
and dragged me home alive.... Oh my Petite,
clearest of all God's creatures, still all air and nerve:
you were in our twenties, and I,
once hand on glass
and heart in mouth,
out drank the Rahvs in the heat
of Greenwich Village, fainting at your feet,
too boiled and shy
and poker-faced to make a pass,
while the shrill verve

Robert Lowell

I Arise and go Down to the River

I arise and go down to the River, and currents that come from the sea,
Still fresh with the salt of the ocean, are lovely and precious to me,
The waters are silver and silent, except where the kingfisher dips,
Or the ripples wash off from my shoulder the reddening stain of thy lips.

Two things make my joy at this moment: thy gold-coloured beauty by night,
And the delicate charm of the River, all pale in the day-breaking light,
So cool are the waters' caresses. Ah, which is the lovelier, - this?
Or the fire that it kindles at midnight, beneath the soft glow of thy kiss?

Ah, Love has a mighty dominion, he forges with passionate breath
The links which stretch out to the Future, with forces of life and of death,
But great is the charm of the River, so soft is the sigh of the reeds,...

Adela Florence Cory Nicolson