Books Should Be Free is now
Loyal Books
Free Public Domain Audiobooks & eBook Downloads
Search by: Title, Author or Keyword

Sour Grapes A Book of Poems   By: (1883-1963)

Book cover

First Page:

'SOUR GRAPES'

A Book of Poems

BOSTON THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY 1921

Copyright, 1921, by THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY

The Four Seas Press Boston, Mass., U. S. A.

To ALFRED KREYMBORG

Certain of the poems in this book have appeared in the magazines: Poetry , a Magazine of Verse , The Egoist , The Little Review , The Dial , Others , and Contact .

CONTENTS

Page

THE LATE SINGER 11

MARCH 12

BERKET AND THE STARS 17

A CELEBRATION 18

APRIL 21

A GOODNIGHT 22

OVERTURE TO A DANCE OF LOCOMOTIVES 24

ROMANCE MODERNE 26

THE DESOLATE FIELD 30

WILLOW POEM 31

APPROACH OF WINTER 32

JANUARY 33

BLIZZARD 34

TO WAKEN AN OLD LADY 35

WINTER TREES 36

COMPLAINT 37

THE COLD NIGHT 38

SPRING STORM 39

THE DELICACIES 40

THURSDAY 43

THE DARK DAY 44

TIME, THE HANGMAN 45

TO A FRIEND 46

THE GENTLE MAN 47

THE SOUGHING WIND 48

SPRING 49

PLAY 50

LINES 51

THE POOR 52

COMPLETE DESTRUCTION 53

MEMORY OF APRIL 54

EPITAPH 55

DAISY 56

PRIMROSE 57

QUEEN ANN'S LACE 58

GREAT MULLEN 59

WAITING 60

THE HUNTER 61

ARRIVAL 62

TO A FRIEND CONCERNING SEVERAL LADIES 63

YOUTH AND BEAUTY 65

THE THINKER 66

THE DISPUTANTS 67

THE TULIP BED 68

THE BIRDS 69

THE NIGHTINGALES 70

SPOUTS 71

BLUEFLAGS 72

THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME 73

LIGHT HEARTED WILLIAM 74

PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR 75

THE LONELY STREET 77

THE GREAT FIGURE 78

SOUR GRAPES

THE LATE SINGER

Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on his breast has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past: What is it that is dragging at my heart? The grass by the back door is stiff with sap. The old maples are opening their branches of brown and yellow moth flowers. A moon hangs in the blue in the early afternoons over the marshes. I am late at my singing.

MARCH

I

Winter is long in this climate and spring a matter of a few days only, a flower or two picked from mud or from among wet leaves or at best against treacherous bitterness of wind, and sky shining teasingly, then closing in black and sudden, with fierce jaws.

II

March, you remind me of the pyramids, our pyramids stript of the polished stone that used to guard them! March, you are like Fra Angelico at Fiesole, painting on plaster!

March, you are like a band of young poets that have not learned the blessedness of warmth (or have forgotten it)... Continue reading book >>




eBook Downloads
ePUB eBook
• iBooks for iPhone and iPad
• Nook
• Sony Reader
Kindle eBook
• Mobi file format for Kindle
Read eBook
• Load eBook in browser
Text File eBook
• Computers
• Windows
• Mac

Review this book



Popular Genres
More Genres
Languages
Paid Books