Like wonder-wounded hearers

+ + + HAMLET: A king of shreds and patches —[Enter GHOST in his nightgown]Save me and hover o’er me with your wings,You heavenly guards! [To GHOST] What would you, gracious figure? GERTRUDE: Alas, he’s mad. + + + What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wand’ring stars and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane. + + + If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,Absent thee from felicity a while,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in painTo tell my story. + + + Now cracks a…

How furiously your heart is beating

+++ GRAY ROOM by Wallace Stevens Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one finger, Move the leaf in the bowl– The leaf that has fallen from the branches of the forsythia Beside you… What is all this? I know how furiously your heart is beating. +++ -pg 23, Wallace Stevens, The Palm…

Darken your speech.

+++ TWO FIGURES IN DENSE VIOLET LIGHT by Wallace Stevens I had as lief be embraced by the portier of the hotelAs to get no more from the moonlightThan your moist hand. Be the voice of the night and Florida in my ear.Use dasky words and dusky images.Darken your speech. Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking,But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts,Conceiving words, As the night conceives the sea-sound in silence,And out of the droning sibilants makesA serenade. Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-poleand sleep with one eye watching the stars fallBeyond…

To say, "Where my spirit is I am."

+++ SAILING AFTER LUNCH by Wallace Stevens It is the word pejorative that hurts.My old boat goes round on a crutchand doesn’t get underway.It’s the time of the yearAnd the time of the day. Perhaps it’s the lunch that we hadOr the lunch that we should have had.But I am, in any case,A most inappropriate manIn a most unpropitious place. Mon Dieu, hear the poet’s prayer.The romantic should be here.The romantic should be there.It ought to be everywhere.But the romantic must never remain, Mon Dieu, must never again return.The heavy historical sailThrough the mustiest blue of the lakeIn a really…

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

+++ Tomorrow night, when Phoebe doth beholdHer silver visage in the wat’ry glass,Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass —A time that lover’s slights doth still conceal —Through Athen’s gates have we devised to steal. +++ How now, spirit, wither wander you? +++ Or in the beached margin of the seaTo dance our ringlets to the whistling wind +++ How now, mad spirit?What nightrule now about this haunted grove? +++ Hermia: Why, get you gone. Who is’t that hinders you?Helena: A foolish heart that I leave here behind. +++ Where are these lads? Where are these hearts? +++