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Robinson Jeffers's Poetry, by title

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  • True, the time, to one who does not love farce,
    And if misery must be prefers it nobler, shows apparent vices;
    23 lines
  • The road had steepened and the sun sharpened on the high
    ridges; the stream probably was dry,
    90 lines
  • Farther up the gorge the sea's voice fainted and ceased.
    We heard a new noise far away ahead of us, vague and metallic,
    65 lines
  • That sculptor we knew, the passionate-eyed son of a quarryman,
    Who astonished Rome and Paris in his meteor youth, and then
    90 lines
  • It is likely enough that lions and scorpions
    Guard the end; life never was bonded to be endurable nor the
    17 lines
  • No spot of earth where men have so fiercely for ages of time
    Fought and survived and cancelled each other,
    25 lines
  • In the purple light, heavy with redwood, the slopes drop seaward,
    Headlong convexities of forest, drawn in together to the steep
    115 lines
  • Beyond the great valley an odd instinctive rising
    Begins to possess the ground, the flatness gathers
    39 lines
  • The story is derived from the closing chapters of the Volsung
    Saga, the action of which refers itself to a date fairly correspondent
    2070 lines
  • (The story of Achilles rising from the dead for love of Helen
    is well enough known. That of Polyxo's vengeance may be less
    701 lines
  • Though the little clouds ran southward still, the quiet autumnal
    Cool of the late September evening
    11 lines
  • No bitterness: our ancestors did it.
    They were only ignorant and hopeful, they wanted freedom but wealth too.
    8 lines, 2 comments
  • That public men publish falsehoods
    Is nothing new. That America must accept
    21 lines, 3 comments
  • The fierce musical cries of a couple of sparrowhawks hunting
    on the headland,
    23 lines
  • Joy is a trick in the air; pleasure is merely
    contemptible, the dangled
    29 lines
  • Seventy years ago my mother labored to bear me,
    A twelve-pound baby with a big head,
    17 lines
  • They burned lime on the hill and dropped it down
    here in an iron car
    32 lines
  • The proletariat for your Messiah, the poor and many are to
    seize power and make the world new.
    21 lines
  • Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers,
    The exuberant voices of music,
    23 lines
  • The extraordinary patience of things!
    This beautiful place defaced with a crop of surburban houses-
    15 lines, 1 comment
  • The mad girl with the staring eyes and long white fingers
    Hooked in the stones of the wall,
    13 lines
  • Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide.
    The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel,
    51 lines, 1 comment
  • At the equinox when the earth was veiled in a late rain, wreathed
    with wet poppies, waiting spring,
    38 lines
  • The world has many seas, Mediterranean, Atlantic, but
    here is the shore of the one ocean.
    23 lines, 2 comments
  • If one should tell them what's clearly seen
    They'd not understand; if they understood they would not believe;
    12 lines
  • Here is the skull of a man: a man’s thoughts and emotions
    Have moved under the thin bone vault like clouds
    86 lines
  • After all, we also stand on a height. Our blood and our culture
    have passed the flood-marks of any world
    32 lines
  • The old pagan burials, uninscribed rock,
    Secret-keeping mounds,
    27 lines
  • Like mourning women veiled to the feet
    Tall slender rainstorms walk slowly against gray cloud along the
    11 lines
  • The storm-dances of gulls, the barking game of seals,
    Over and under the ocean ...
    13 lines
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