All Poems

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Sonnet LXXIV. The Winter Night

© Charlotte Turner Smith

"SLEEP, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care,"
Forsakes me, while the chill and sullen blast,
As my sad soul recalls its sorrows past,
Seems like a summons bidding me prepare

459. Sonnet on the Death of Robert Riddell

© Robert Burns

NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more;
Nor pour your descant grating on my soul;
Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in thy verdant stole,
More welcome were to me grim Winters wildest roar.

The Death Of Schiller

© William Cullen Bryant

'Tis said, when Schiller's death drew nigh,
The wish possessed his mighty mind,
To wander forth wherever lie
The homes and haunts of human-kind.

275. SongThe Laddies dear sel

© Robert Burns

THERES a youth in this city, it were a great pity
That he from our lassies should wander awa;
For hes bonie and braw, weel-favord witha,
An his hair has a natural buckle an a.

170. Epigram to Miss Ainslie in Church

© Robert Burns

FAIR maid, you need not take the hint,
Nor idle texts pursue:
Twas guilty sinners that he meant,
Not Angels such as you.

Historic Evening

© Arthur Rimbaud

On an evening, for example, when the naive tourist has retired

from our economic horrors, a master's hand awakens

82. SongKissing my Katie

© Robert Burns

O MERRY hae I been teethin a heckle,
An merry hae I been shapin a spoon;
O merry hae I been cloutin a kettle,
An kissin my Katie when a was done.

Shyama -- English Translation

© Rabindranath Tagore

Yet after all these I cannot forget the pain
I couldnt know her more!
One can hardly be nearest to what is beautiful
It ever remains far
When nearer it urges one ever
To know it ever more.

119. Epitaph for Robert Aiken, Esq.

© Robert Burns

KNOW thou, O stranger to the fame
Of this much lovd, much honoured name!
(For none that knew him need be told)
A warmer heart death neer made cold.

Noonday Hills.

© Robert Crawford

The silent blue haze in the noonday hills
Is deep with glory, as the very air
Were an alembic.

106. To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, recommending a Boy

© Robert Burns

I HOLD it, sir, my bounden duty
To warn you how that Master Tootie,
Alias, Laird MGaun,
Was here to hire yon lad away

408. Commemoration of Rodneys Victory

INSTEAD of a Song, boys, Ill give you a Toast;
Heres to the memory of those on the twelfth that we lost!
That we lost, did I say?nay, by Heavn, that we found;
For their fame it will last while the world goes round.

Episode In A Library

© Zbigniew Herbert

A blonde girl is bent over a poem. With a pencil sharp as a lancet she transfers the words to a blank page and changes them into strokes, accents, caesuras. The lament of a fallen poet now looks like a salamander eaten away by ants.

When we carried him away under machine-gun fire, I believed that his still warm body would be resurrected in the word. Now as I watch the death of the words, I know there is no limit to decay. All that will be left after us in the black earth will be scattered syllables. Accents over nothingness and dust.

98. To Mr. MAdam, of Craigen-Gillan

© Robert Burns

SIR, oer a gill I gat your card,
I trow it made me proud;
See wha taks notice o the bard!
I lap and cried fu loud.

Astrophel And Stella-Fourth Song

Only joy, now here you are,
Fit to hear and ease my care:
Let my whispering voice obtain
Sweet reward for sharpest pain.
Take me to thee, and thee to me.
"No, no, no, no, my dear, let be."

121. Epitaph on Wee Johnnie

© Robert Burns

WHOEER thou art, O reader, know
That Death has murderd Johnie;
An here his body lies fu low;
For saul he neer had ony.

The Worldfeels Dusty

The Worldfeels Dusty
When We stop to Die
We want the Dewthen
Honorstaste dry

510. SongFragmentWee Willie Gray

© Robert Burns

WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket;
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an doublet,
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an doublet,