All Poems
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The Reeve's Tale
© Geoffrey Chaucer
1. "With blearing of a proude miller's eye": dimming his eye;
playing off a joke on him.
The Friar's Tale
© Geoffrey Chaucer
"Peace, with mischance and with misaventure,"
Our Hoste said, "and let him tell his tale.
Now telle forth, and let the Sompnour gale,* *whistle; bawl
Nor spare not, mine owen master dear."
The Miller's Tale
© Geoffrey Chaucer
1. Pilate, an unpopular personage in the mystery-plays of the
middle ages, was probably represented as having a gruff, harsh
voice.
The Wife of Bath's Tale
© Geoffrey Chaucer
7. "But in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and
silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and
some to dishonour." -- 2 Tim. ii 20.
The General Prologue
© Geoffrey Chaucer
There was also a Reeve, and a Millere,
A Sompnour, and a Pardoner also,
A Manciple, and myself, there were no mo'.
The Knight's Tale
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Upon that other side, Palamon,
When that he wist Arcita was agone,
Much sorrow maketh, that the greate tower
Resounded of his yelling and clamour
The pure* fetters on his shinnes great *very
Were of his bitter salte teares wet.
Villon's Straight Tip to All Cross Coves
© William Ernest Henley
It's up the spout and Charley Wag
With wipes and tickers and what not.
Until the squeezer nips your scrag,
Booze and the blowens cop the lot.
Double Ballade on the Nothingness of Things
© William Ernest Henley
The big teetotum twirls,
And epochs wax and wane
As chance subsides or swirls;
But of the loss and gain
Ballade of Dead Actors
© William Ernest Henley
Where are the passions they essayed,
And where the tears they made to flow?
Where the wild humours they portrayed
For laughing worlds to see and know?
If I Were King
© William Ernest Henley
If I were king, my pipe should be premier.
The skies of time and chance are seldom clear,
We would inform them all with bland blue weather.
Delight alone would need to shed a tear,
For dream and deed should war no more together.
London Voluntaries IV: Out of the Poisonous East
© William Ernest Henley
Out of the poisonous East,
Over a continent of blight,
Like a maleficent Influence released
From the most squalid cellerage of hell,
I am the Reaper
© William Ernest Henley
I am the Reaper.
All things with heedful hook
Silent I gather.
Pale roses touched with the spring,
O Gather Me the Rose
© William Ernest Henley
O gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it.
I. M. R. T. Hamilton Bruce (1846-1899)
© William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
Between the Dusk of a Summer Night
© William Ernest Henley
Between the dusk of a summer night
And the dawn of a summer day,
We caught at a mood as it passed in flight,
And we bade it stoop and stay.
Madam Life's a Piece in Bloom
© William Ernest Henley
Madam Life's a piece in bloom
Death goes dogging everywhere:
She's the tenant of the room,
He's the ruffian on the stair.
The Hudson
© Luis Benitez
Now nobody says "horse"
and there is a new colt in the world.
From now on, damn, bless,
the bread that you take to your mouth will taste of contradiction.
About Love For Barbarians
© Luis Benitez
The opposite seeks the opposite
and the drop of black
grows within white
until turning white into black
and conversely the drop becomes white
About What Runs Away
© Luis Benitez
To think that Spinoza died polishing eyeglasses.
That Blake got tired at a printer's shop
waiting for that day's conversation with the angels.
That just to live Baudelaire humiliated before his mother.
Cesar Vallejo
© Luis Benitez
Walking along the corridors of imagination,
free and alone forever, as when he was
and didn't know he was a child,
until forgetting that I'm imagining.
