All Poems

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The Arrow Of Love

© Bulleh Shah

I have been pierced by the arrow of love,

what shall I do ?

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Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine

© William Shakespeare

So, now I have confessed that he is thine,
And I my self am mortgaged to thy will,
Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still.

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Last Night

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

Where were you last night? I watched at the gate;
I went down early, I stayed down late.
 Were you snug at home, I should like to know,
Or were you in the coppice wheedling Kate?

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Sonnet 133: Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan

© William Shakespeare

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?

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Frankfort-On-The-Main

© Charles Godfrey Leland

Dis four-goin song vas over-set by der Hans Breitmann from de
German of Wilhelm Caspary, whose lyric vas a barody on a
dranslation made indo Deutsch by Freiligrath from anoder boem py
Sir Waldherr Scott, vitch Sir Waldherr vas kit de idee of from an
oldt Scottish ballad vitch pegin mit de vorts-

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Sonnet 130: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun

© William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

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Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are

© William Shakespeare

O, that you were your self! But, love, you are
No longer yours than you yourself here live.
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give.

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A Mountain Spring

© Henry Kendall

Peace hath an altar there. The sounding feet

Of thunder and the wildering wings of rain

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Welcoming The New Year

© Edgar Albert Guest

At 10 p. m.

COME, let us make merry with innocent mirth,

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Sonnet 127: In the old age black was not counted fair

© William Shakespeare

In the old age black was not counted fair,
Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;
But now is black beauty's successive heir,
And beauty slandered with a bastard shame.

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A Wild Rose

© Alfred Austin

The first wild rose in wayside hedge,
This year I wandering see,
I pluck, and send it as a pledge,
My own Wild Rose, to Thee.

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The Sun Has Long Been Set

© William Wordsworth

The sun has long been set,

The stars are out by twos and threes,

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Sonnet 125: Were't aught to me I bore the canopy

© William Shakespeare

Were't aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?

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To The City Of Bombay

© Rudyard Kipling

The Cities are full of pride,
 Challenging each to each -
  This from her mountain-side,
 That from her burthened beach.

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Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state

© William Shakespeare

If my dear love were but the child of state,
It might for Fortune's bastard be unfathered,
As subject to Time's love or to Time's hate,
Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered.

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Stella

© Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis

Já raro e mais escasso
A noite arrasta o manto,
E verte o último pranto
Por todo o vasto espaço.

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Poem By The Bridge At Ten-Shin

© Ezra Pound

March has come to the bridge head,

Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a thousand

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Sonnet 122: Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain

© William Shakespeare

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain
Full charactered with lasting memory,
Which shall above that idle rank remain
Beyond all date even to eternity—

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The Rose Of Flora

© William Makepeace Thackeray

On Brady's tower there grows a flower,
 It is the loveliest flower that blows,—
At Castle Brady there lives a lady,
 (And how I love her no one knows);
Her name is Nora, and the goddess Flora
 Presents her with this blooming rose.

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Mystic

© Arthur Rimbaud

On the slope of the knoll angels
whirl their woolen robes
in pastures of emerald and steel.
Meadows of flame leap up to the summit of the little hill.