Adelaide Crapsey Quotes & Sayings

Is it as plainly in our living shown,
By which way the wind hath blown? — Adelaide Crapsey

And if the many sayings of the wise
Teach of submission I will not submit
But with a spirit all unreconciled
Flash an unquenched defiance to the stars. — Adelaide Crapsey

Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall
To speak thy pain,
Gently as through the silver dusk
The silver rain.
Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief
In such soft sigh
As hath the wind in gardens where
Pale roses die. — Adelaide Crapsey

Not thou,
White rose, but thy
Ensanguined sister is
The dear companion of my heart's
Shed blood. — Adelaide Crapsey

I knowNot these my handsAnd yet I think there wasA woman like me once had handsLike these. — Adelaide Crapsey

Thou hast
Drawn laughter from
A well of secret tears
And thence so elvish it rings, -mocking
And sweet. — Adelaide Crapsey

Little Sister Rose-Marie,
Will thy feet as willing-light
Run through Paradise, I wonder,
As they run the blue skies under,
Willing feet, so airy-light?
Little Sister Rose-Marie
Will thy voice as bird-note clear
Lift and ripple over Heaven
As its mortal sound is given,
Swift bird-voice, so young and clear?
How God will be glad of thee,
Little Sister Rose-Marie! — Adelaide Crapsey

Why have I
thought the dew
Ephemeral when I
Shall rest so short a time, myself,
On earth? — Adelaide Crapsey

Seen on a night in November
How frail
Above the bulk
Of crashing water hangs,
Autumn, evanescent, wan,
The moon. — Adelaide Crapsey

But me
They cannot touch,
Old age and death.the strange
And ignominious end of old
Dead folk! — Adelaide Crapsey

Scarlet the poppies
Blue the corn-flowers,
Golden the wheat.
Gold for the Eternal:
Blue for Our Lady:
Red for the five
Wounds of her Son. — Adelaide Crapsey

If it
Were lighter touch
Than petal of flower resting
On grass, oh still too heavy it were,
Too heavy! — Adelaide Crapsey

Look up ...
From bleakening hills
Blows down the light, first breath
Of wintry wind ... look up, and scent
The snow! — Adelaide Crapsey

Dost thou
Not feel them slip,
How cold! how cold! the moon's
Thin wavering finger-tips, along
Thy throat? — Adelaide Crapsey

My object to venture the suggestion that an important application of phonetics to metrical problems lies in the study of phonetic word-structure. — Adelaide Crapsey

As it
Were tissue of silver
I'll wear, O Fate, thy grey,
And go mistily radiant, clad
Like the moon. — Adelaide Crapsey

Sea-foam
And coral! Oh, I'll
Climb the great pasture rocks
And dream me mermaid in the sun's
Gold flood. — Adelaide Crapsey

Reap, reap the grain and gather
The sweet grapes from the vine;
Our Lord's mother is weeping,
She hath nor bread nor wine;
She is weeping. The Queen of Heaven,
She hath nor bread nor wine. — Adelaide Crapsey

These be Three silent things: The Falling snow ... the hour Before the dawn ... the mouth of one Just dead. — Adelaide Crapsey

Sun and wind and beat of sea,
Great lands stretching endlessly ...
Where be bonds to bind the free?
All the world was made for me! — Adelaide Crapsey

If illness' end be health regained then I
Will pay you, Asculapeus, when I die. — Adelaide Crapsey

No guile?
Nay, but so strangely
He moves among us. Not this
Man but Barabbas! Release to us
Barabbas! — Adelaide Crapsey

Why do
You thus devise
Evil against her?' 'For that
She is beautiful, delicate;
Therefore. — Adelaide Crapsey

Just now,
Out of the strange
Still dusk ... as strange, as still ...
A white moth flew ... Why am I grown
So cold? — Adelaide Crapsey

Ere the horne'd owl hoot
Once and twice and thrice there shall
Go among the blind brown worms
News of thy great burial;
When the pomp is passed away,
'Here's a King,' the worms shall say. — Adelaide Crapsey

The old
Old winds that blew
When chaos was, what do
They tell the clattered trees that I
Should weep? — Adelaide Crapsey

Still as
On windless nights
The moon-cast shadows are,
So still will be my heart when I
Am dead. — Adelaide Crapsey

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look
In the pages of my book;
And as these thy hand doth turn,
Know here is my funeral urn. — Adelaide Crapsey

Peter stands by the gate,
And Michael by the throne.
'Peter, I would pass the gate
And come before the throne.'
'Whose spirit prayed never at the gate
In life nor at the throne,
In death he may not pass the gate
To come before the throne:'
Peter said from the gate;
Said Michael from the throne. — Adelaide Crapsey

I make my shroud, but no one knows
So shimmering fine it is and fair,
With stitches set in even rows,
I make my shroud, but no one knows.
In door-way where the lilac blows,
Humming a little wandering air,
I make my shroud and no one knows,
So shimmering fine it is and fair. — Adelaide Crapsey

Pain ebbs,
And like cool balm,
An opiate weariness
Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed
Pale wrists. — Adelaide Crapsey

And the centurion who stood by said:
Truly this was a son of God.
Not long ago but everywhere I go
There is a hill and a black windy sky.
Portent of hill, sky, day's eclipse I know;
Hill, sky, the shuddering darkness, these am I.
The dying at His right hand, at His left,
I am - the thief redeemed and the lost thief;
I am the careless folk; I those bereft,
The Well-Belov'd, the women bowed in grief.
The gathering Presence that in terror cried,
In earth's shock in the Temple's veil rent through,
I; and a watcher, ignorant, curious-eyed,
I the centurion who heard and knew — Adelaide Crapsey

With night's
Dim veil and blue
I will cover my eyes,
I will bind close my eyes that are
So weary. — Adelaide Crapsey

Listen ... With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break free from the trees And fall. — Adelaide Crapsey

In your
Curled petals what ghosts
Of blue headlands and seas,
What perfumed immortal breath sighing
Of Greece. — Adelaide Crapsey

When I was girl by Nilus stream
I watched the deserts stars arise;
My lover, he who dreamed the Sphinx,
Learned all his dreaming from eyes.
I bore in Greece a burning name,
And I have been in Italy
Madonna to a painter-lad,
And mistress to a Medici.
And have you heard (and I have heard)
Of puzzled men with decorous mien,
Who judged - the wench knew far too much -
And burnt her on the Salem green? — Adelaide Crapsey

Three grey women walk with me
Fate and Grief and Memory.
My fate brought grief; my grief must be
With me through Eternity,
Such thy power, memory.
Three grey women walk with me. — Adelaide Crapsey