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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HOTEL, by SHERARD VINES Poet's Biography
First Line: The great bestial bulk of it looms into the night
Last Line: Till one night lady death fingers the cups ere dawn?
Subject(s): Hotels; Oxford University; Inns; Innskeepers; Motels; Boarding Houses
First Line: The great bestial bulk of it looms into the night
Last Line: Till one night lady death fingers the cups ere dawn?
Subject(s): Hotels; Oxford University; Inns; Innskeepers; Motels; Boarding Houses
THE great bestial bulk of it looms into the night
Squat and untowered, and seems to menace goers-in,
Yet draws them, kingly: fronted with hissing violet light,
Symbol of splendour and mighty ugliness of sin
It broods; and there, above, the sky more wonderfully
Arched! Yet I love not its frozen blueness rather
Than your facade of barbarous unchastity
Carven round in the stone. Now here the rich men gather
For their delight, and will pour out their ruddy gold
As men have scattered blood; and women go with them
Loose as water they say, but glorious to behold,
With their hair all as bright as the star of Bethlehem
And their lips like red poppies -- those slumbrous summer petals
You see glint in the sun -- on the clear flesh of these
Lie green stones and white stones in well-twisted metals,
Sapphires and amethysts and wicked Turkises.
For them is a royal massacre of birds and beasts,
Good sweet flesh, and seasoned, and strong red wine
Or amber-coloured, stranged glass-work and flowers to their feasts
For a better cosening; there, music of libertine
Burden, throbs from caressed strings, and winds among
The hot gay hearts of the feasters; and I have heard it, too,
Surging out through the doors as to and forth they swung
A purple music, the lilt of the regal soul of you,
Temple, triumph of men that are grown to great possessing.
Yet, as you sprawl your porches and pillars along street
You baffle as a sphinx with her riddle hard at guessing,
Somewhat hiding; what is your lure unto our feet?
Shall ever these dull in greed temper their wine with tears
Though the mouth laughs? And shall God seem to be slack, and yawn
While they live long and be merry many years
Till one night Lady Death fingers the cups ere dawn?
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THE KEEPER OF THE DEAD HOTEL by AGHA SHAHID ALI
IN GEORGETOWN; HOLIDAY INN, WASHINGTON, D.C. by HAYDEN CARRUTH
OUTSIDE ROOM SIX by LYNN EMANUEL