To The Lacedemonians By Allen Tate

To The Lacedemonians An old soldier on the night before the veterans reunion talks partly to himself, partly to imaginary comrades: The people—people of my…

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Fragment Of A Meditation By Allen Tate

Fragment Of A Meditation Not yet the thirtieth year, the thirtieth Station where time reverses his light heels To rim both ways, and makes of…

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The Cross By Allen Tate

The Cross There is a place that some men know, I cannot see the whole of it Nor how I came there. Long ago Flame…

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Records By Allen Tate

Records I. A DREAM At nine years a sickly boy lay down At bedtime on a cot by mother’s bed And as the two darks…

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Art By Allen Tate

Art When you are come by ways emptied of light You’ll say goodby, in that indifferent gloom, To the quick draughts of old, yet with…

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The Eagle By Allen Tate

The Eagle Say never the strong heart In the consuming breath Cries out unto the dark The skinny death. Look! whirring on the rind Of…

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More Sonnets At Christmas I By Allen Tate

More Sonnets At Christmas I To Denis Devlin Again the native hour lets down the locks Uncombed and black, but gray the bobbing beard; Ten…

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The Paradigm By Allen Tate

The Paradigm For when they meet, the tensile air Like fine steel strains under the weight Of messages that both hearts bear- Pure passion once,…

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False Nightmare By Allen Tate

False Nightmare ‘I give the yawp barbaric Of piety and pelf (Who now reads Herrick?) ‘And contradict myself No matter, the verse is large. My…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Ii By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Ii Near to me as perfection in the blood And more mysterious far, is this, my brother: A light vaulted into…

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Retroduction To American History By Allen Tate

Retroduction To American History Cats walk the floor at midnight; that enemy of fog, The moon, wraps the bedpost in receding stillness; sleep Collects all…

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A Pauper By Allen Tate

A Pauper . . . and the children’s teeth shall be set on edge. I see him old, trapped in a burly house Cold in…

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The Meaning Of Death By Allen Tate

The Meaning Of Death An After-Dinner Speech I rise, gentlemen, it is the pleasant hour. Darkness falls. The night falls. Time, fall no more. Let…

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More Sonnets At Christmas Ii By Allen Tate

More Sonnets At Christmas Ii The day’s at end and there’s nowhere to go, Draw to the fire, even this fire is dying; Get up…

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The Progress Of Œnia By Allen Tate

The Progress Of Œnia His dim, ut fama est, vitiis ad proelia ventum est, his Troiana vides funera principiis. PROPERTIUS. I. MADRIGALE Seed in your…

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Emblems By Allen Tate

Emblems I Maryland, Virginia, Caroline Pent images in sleep Clay valleys rocky hills old fields of pine Unspeakable and deep Out of that source of…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Iii By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Iii Then, brother, you would never think me vain Or rude, if I should mention dignity; Think little of it. Dignity’s…

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Sonnets At Christmas I By Allen Tate

Sonnets At Christmas I This is the day His hour of life draws near, Let me get ready from head to foot for it Most…

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Unnatural Love By Allen Tate

Unnatural Love Landor, not that I doubt your word, That you had strove with none At seventy-five and had deferred To nature and art alone;…

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Sonnet To Beauty By Allen Tate

Sonnet To Beauty The wonder of light is your familiar tale, Pert wench, down to the nineteenth century: Mr. Rimbaud the Frenchman’s apostasy Asserts the…

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Message From Abroad By Allen Tate

Message From Abroad To Andrew Lytle Paris, November 1929 Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, although their ancestors nearly two hundred years…

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The Robber Bridegroom By Allen Tate

The Robber Bridegroom (Talk between Bird and Girl) Turn back. Turn, young lady dear A murderer’s house you enter here I was wooed and won…

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Elegy By Allen Tate

Elegy Jefferson Davis: 1808-1889 No more the white refulgent streets. Never the dry hollows of the mind Shall he in fine courtesy walk Again, for…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Vii By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Vii This message hastens lest we both go down Scattered, with no character, to death; Death is untutored, with an ignorant…

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Pastoral By Allen Tate

Pastoral The enquiring fields, courtesies And tribulations of the air- Be still and give them peace: The girl in the gold hair With her young…

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To The Romantic Traditionists By Allen Tate

To The Romantic Traditionists I have looked at them long, My eyes blur; sourceless light Keeps them forever young Before our ageing sight. You see…

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Shadow And Shade By Allen Tate

Shadow And Shade The shadow streamed into the wall- The wall, break-shadow in the blast; We lingered wordless while a tall Shade enclouded the shadow’s…

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Light By Allen Tate

Light Last night I fled until I came To streets where leaking casements dripped Stale lamplight from the corpse of flame; A nervous window bled….

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The Subway By Allen Tate

The Subway Dark accurate plunger down the successive knell Of arch on arch, where ogives burst a red Reverberance of hail upon the dead Thunder…

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Eclogue Of The Liberal And The Poet By Allen Tate

Eclogue Of The Liberal And The Poet LIBERAL In that place, shepherd, all the men are dead. POET Yes, look at the water grim and…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Ix By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Ix Captains of industry, your aimless power Awakens harsh velleities of time: Let you, brother, captaining your hour Be zealous that…

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Ode To Fear By Allen Tate

Ode To Fear Variation on a Theme by Collins Let the day glare: O memory, your tread Beats to the pulse of suffocating night- Night…

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Winter Mask By Allen Tate

Winter Mask To the memory of W. B. Yeats I Towards nightfall when the wind Tries the eaves and casements (A winter wind of the…

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The Eye By Allen Tate

The Eye To E. E. Cummings I see the horses and the sad streets Of my childhood in an agate eye Roving, under the clean…

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Last Days Of Alice By Allen Tate

Last Days Of Alice Alice grown lazy, mammoth but not fat, Declines upon her lost and twilight age; Above in the dozing leaves the grinning…

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The Wolves By Allen Tate

The Wolves There are wolves in the next room waiting With heads bent low, thrust out, breathing At nothing in the dark; between them and…

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Farewell To Anactoria By Allen Tate

Farewell To Anactoria (Sappho) Never the tramp of foot or horse, Nor lusty cries from ship at sea, Shall I call loveliest on the dark…

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Sonnets Of The Blood V By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood V Our elder brother whom we had not seen These twenty years until you brought him back From the cyclonic West,…

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Ode To The Confederate Dead By Allen Tate

Ode To The Confederate Dead Row after row with strict impunity The headstones yield their names to the element, The wind whirrs without recollection; In…

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A Carrion By Allen Tate

A Carrion (From the French of Charles Baudelaire) Remember now, my Love, what piteous thing We saw on a summer’s gracious day: By the roadside…

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The Mediterranean By Allen Tate

The Mediterranean Where we went in the boat was a long bay a slingshot wide, walled in by towering stone– Peaked margin of antiquity’s delay,…

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Inside And Outside By Allen Tate

Inside And Outside I Now twenty-four or maybe twenty-five Was the woman’s age, and her white brow was sleek; Lips parted in surprise, the flawless…

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The Trout Map By Allen Tate

The Trout Map The Management Area of Cherokee National Forest, interested in fish, Has mapped Tellico and Bald Rivers And North River, with the tributaries…

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Ditty By Allen Tate

Ditty The moon will run all consciences to cover, Night is now the easy peer of day; Little boys no longer sight the plover Streaked…

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The Ancestors By Allen Tate

The Ancestors When the night’s coming and the last light falls A weak child among lost shadows on the floor, It is your listening: pulse…

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Mr. Pope By Allen Tate

Mr. Pope When Alexander Pope strolled in the city Strict was the glint of pearl and ”old sedans. Ladies leaned out more out of fear…

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The Meaning Of Life By Allen Tate

The Meaning Of Life A Monologue Think about it at will: there is that Which is the commentary; there’s that other, Which may be called…

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Ignis Fatuus By Allen Tate

Ignis Fatuus In the twilight of my audacity I saw you flee the world, the burnt highways Of summer gave up their light: I Followed…

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The Vigil Of Venus By Allen Tate

The Vigil Of Venus I Tomorrow let loveless, let lover tomorrow make love : O spring, singing spring, spring of the world renew! In spring…

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Death Of Little Boys By Allen Tate

Death Of Little Boys When little boys grown patient at last, weary, Surrender their eyes immeasurably to the night, The event will rage terrific as…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Viii By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Viii Not power nor the casual hand of God Shall keep us whole in our dissevering air, It is a stink…

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Obituary By Allen Tate

Obituary In memory of S. B. V., 1834-1909 … so what the lame four-poster gathered here Between the lips of stale and seasoned sheets Startles…

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The Traveller By Allen Tate

The Traveller To Archibald MacLeish The afternoon with heavy hours Lies vacant on the wanderer’s sight And sunset waits whose cloudy towers Expect the legions…

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Idiot By Allen Tate

Idiot The idiot greens the meadow with his eyes, The meadow creeps implacable and still; A dog barks, the hammock swings, he lies. One two…

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Sonnets At Christmas Ii By Allen Tate

Sonnets At Christmas Ii Ah, Christ, I love you rings to the wild sky And I must think a little of the past: When I…

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Correspondences By Allen Tate

Correspondences (From the French of Charles Baudelaire) All nature is a temple where the alive Pillars breathe often a tremor of mixed words; Man wanders…

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Sonnets Of The Blood Vi By Allen Tate

Sonnets Of The Blood Vi The fire I praise was once perduring flame- Till it snuffs with our generation out; No matter, it’s all one,…

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Mother And Son By Allen Tate

Mother And Son Now all day long the man who is not dead Hastens the dark with inattentive eyes, The woman with white hand and…

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The Oath By Allen Tate

The Oath It was near evening, the room was cold Half dark; Uncle Ben’s brass bullet-mould And powder-horn and Major Bogan’s face Above the fire…

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Horatian Epode To The Duchess Of Malfi By Allen Tate

Horatian Epode To The Duchess Of Malfi Duchess: Who am I? Bosola: Thou art a box of worm-seed, at best but a salvatory of green…

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