All Poems
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Even that old horse
© Matsuo Basho
Even that old horse
is something to see this
snow-covered morning
The Gentle Water Bird (for Mary Gilmore)
© John Shaw Neilson
In the far days, when every day was long,
Fear was upon me and the fear was strong,
Ere I had learned the recompense of song.
The Water Crowvoot
© William Barnes
O' small-feäc'd flow'r that now dost bloom
To stud wi' white the shallow Frome,
Three Palinodias - 01
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"Incense is hut a tribute for the gods,-
To mortals 'tis but poison."
Hans Huckebein (The Unlucky Raven) Prologue
© Wilhelm Busch
Sosehr sein Ende mich bewegt,
Ich durft' es anders nicht vermelden. -
Er stirbt - denn tragisch angelegt
War der Charakter dieses Helden.
Tell me Brother
© Kabir
TELL me, Brother, how can I renounce Maya?
When I gave up the tying of ribbons, still I tied my garment about me:
When I gave up tying my garment, still I covered my body in its folds.
So, when I give up passion, I see that anger remains;
Not Heaving From My Ribb'd Breast Only
© Walt Whitman
NOT heaving from my ribb'd breast only;
Not in sighs at night, in rage, dissatisfied with myself;
Riches I hold in light esteem
© Emily Jane Brontë
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
And lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn
Stain Not The Sky
© Henry Van Dyke
Ye gods of battle, lords of fear,
Who work your iron will as well
Epitaph On Henry Martyn
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Here Martyn lies. In Manhood's early bloom
The Christian Hero finds a Pagan tomb.
The Flower of Love
© Thomas Love Peacock
'Tis said the rose is Love's own flower,
Its blush so bright, its thorns so many;
Lines.Oft on that latest star
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Oft on that latest star of purest light,
That hovers on the verge of morning gray,
I gaze, and think of eyes that gleam'd as bright,
As fondly linger'd, and yet passd away.
Mothers And Wives
© Edgar Albert Guest
Mothers and wives, 'tis the call to arms
That the bugler yonder prepares to sound;
On The Author Of Letters On Literature
© William Cowper
The genius of the Augustan age
His head among Rome's ruins reared,
And bursting with heroic rage,
When literary Heron appeared,
The Dead Return
© Edgar Albert Guest
THE dead return. I know they do;
The glad smile may have passed from view,
Symbols
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I watched a rosebud very long
Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then, when I thought it should be strong,
It opened at the matin hour
And fell at evensong.
