All Poems
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A tall, strapping shot, you, considerate hunter...
© Boris Pasternak
A tall, strapping shot, you, considerate hunter,
Phantom with gun at the flood of my soul,
Do not destroy me now as a traitor,
As fodder for feeling, crumbled up small!
The Fan : A Poem. Book II.
© John Gay
But see, fair Venus comes in all her state;
The wanton Loves and Graces round her wait;
With her loose robe officious Zephyrs play,
And strow with odoriferous flowers the way.
In her right hand she waves the fluttering fan,
And thus in melting sounds her speech began.
To Sophronia.
© Mary Barber
Those who thy Favour once obtain,
Need not sollicit thee again;
Nor ever at Neglect repine:
Their Wishes and their Cares are thine:
Nor at the Grave thy Friendship ends;
But to Posterity descends.
Homage To Sextus Propertius - V
© Ezra Pound
2
Yet you ask on what account I write so many love-lyrics
And whence this soft book comes into my mouth.
Neither Calliope nor Apollo sung these things into my ear,
My genius is no more than a girl.
The Australian Muse
© Leon Gellert
Uplift thy lyre, and touch the tender strings;
But leave unsung the epics of thy land
The Law Of Death
© John Hay
But when she saw her child was dead,
She scattered ashes on her head,
And seized the small corpse, pale and sweet,
And rushing wildly through the street,
She sobbing fell at Buddha's feet.
Losses
© Heinrich Heine
Youth is leaving me; but daily
By new courage it's replaced ;
And my bold arm circles gaily
Many a young and slender waist.
As banked clouds
© Saigyo
As banked clouds
are swept apart by the wind,
at dawn the sudden cry
of the first wild geese
winging across the mountains.
To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times)
© George Gordon Byron
Strahan, Tonson Lintot of the times,
Patron and publisher of rhymes,
For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,
My Murray.
Grant At Rest-- August 8, 1885
© James Whitcomb Riley
Sir Launcelot rode overthwart and endlong in a wide forest, and held no
path but as wild adventure led him... And he returned and came again to his
horse, and took off his saddle and his bridle, and let him pasture; and
unlaced his helm, and ungirdled his sword, and laid him down to sleep upon
his shield before the cross. --Age of Chivalary
Counting The Mad
© Donald Justice
This one was put in a jacket,
This one was sent home,
This one was given bread and meat
But would eat none,
And this one cried No No No No
All day long.
Beranger's "To My Old Coat"
© Eugene Field
Still serve me in my age, I pray,
As in my youth, O faithful one;
The Home of Peace
© Charles Harpur
In a bark of gentle motion
Sailing on the summer ocean?
There worst war the tempest wages,
And the hungry whirlpool rages.
Critics Nightwatch
© Gwen Harwood
Once more he tried, before he slept,
to rule his ranks of words. They broke
from his planned choir, lolled, slouched and kept
their tone, their pitch, their meaning crude;
huddled in cliches; when pursued
turned with mock elegance to croak
Sonnet XXVIII. To Friendship
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THOU! whose name too often is profaned;
Whose charms celestial, few have hearts to feel;
Unknown to Folly--and by Pride disdain'd!
--To thy soft solace may my sorrows steal!
