All Poems

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 01 - Proem

© Lucretius

O thou who first uplifted in such dark

So clear a torch aloft, who first shed light

The Dray

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Huge through the darkened street
The Dray comes, rolling an uneven thunder
Of wheels and trampling feet;
The shaken windows stare in sleepy wonder.

I have waked, I have come, my beloved! I might not abide:
I have come ere the dawn, O beloved, my live-oaks, to hide
In your gospelling glooms, -- to be
As a lover in heaven, the marsh my marsh and the sea my sea.

hastee apnee Hubaab kee see hai (With English Translation)

© Meer Taqi Meer

hastee apnee Hubaab kee see hai

ye numa'ish suraab kee see hai

Ode to a Young Lady

© William Shenstone

Survey, my Fair! that lucid stream,
Adown the smiling valley stray;
Would Art attempt, or Fancy dream,
To regulate its winding way?

The Bee Meeting

© Sylvia Plath

Who are these people at the bridge to meet me? They are the villagers--
The rector, the midwife, the sexton, the agent for bees.
In my sleeveless summery dress I have no protection,
And they are all gloved and covered, why did nobody tell me?
They are smiling and taking out veils tacked to ancient hats.

Eve

© Francis Ernley Walrond

The gray of the morning
Creeps in the room like fear.
It is growing lighter,
But I sit crouched and shivering.

A Wreath Of Sonnets (6/14)

© France Preseren

Unblest by soothing winds of warmer days,
My songs remain, since from you, haughty maid,
They never won the word that might be said -
The word that neither saddens nor dismays.

A Ballade of Waiting

© Archibald Lampman

So time shall be swift till thou mate with me,
For love is mightiest next to fate,
And none shall be happier, Love, than we,
In the year yet, Lady, to dream and wait.

Aholibah

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

IN the beginning God made thee
A woman well to look upon,
Thy tender body as a tree
Whereon cool wind hath always blown
Till the clean branches be well grown.

The Damsel Of Peru

© William Cullen Bryant

Where olive leaves were twinkling in every wind that blew,
There sat beneath the pleasant shade a damsel of Peru.
Betwixt the slender boughs, as they opened to the air,
Came glimpses of her ivory neck and of her glossy hair;
And sweetly rang her silver voice, within that shady nook,
As from the shrubby glen is heard the sound of hidden brook.

The Garden Of Boccaccio

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Still in thy garden let me watch their pranks,
…
With that sly satyr peeping through the leaves !

The Opal Month

© Virna Sheard

Now cometh October--a nut-brown maid,
Who in robes of crimson and gold arrayed
Hath taken the king's highway!
On the world she smiles--but to me it seems
Her eyes are misty with mid-summer dreams,
Or memories of the May.

Indian Summer

© Katharine Tynan

This is the sign!
This flooding splendour, golden and hyaline,
This sun a golden sea on hill and plain, --
That God forgets not, that He walks with men.

Vision (original French)

Une louve je vis sous l'antre d'un rocher
Allaitant deux bessons : je vis à sa mamelle
Mignardement jouer cette couple jumelle,
Et d'un col allongé la louve les lécher.

Psyche

© Jones Very

I SAW a worm, with many a fold;
It spun itself a silken tomb;
And there in winter time enrolled,
It heeded not the cold or gloom.

Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

Tallulah Falls

ALONE with nature, where her passionate mood
Deepens and deepens, till from shadowy wood,
And sombre shore the blended voices sound
Of five infuriate torrents, wanly crowned
With such pale-misted foam as that which starts
To whitening lips from frenzied human hearts!

Bruadar And Smith And Glinn

© Douglas Hyde

BRUADAR and Smith and Glinn,

Amen, dear God, I pray,

The Other Fathers by Lyn Lifshin : American Life in Poetry #251 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-

© Ted Kooser

The poet Lyn Lifshin, who divides her time between New York and Virginia, is one of the most prolific poets among my contemporaries, and has thousands of poems in print, by my loose reckoning. I have been reading her work in literary magazines for at least thirty years. Here’s a good example of this poet at her best.