All Poems
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To Mrs. M. A. Upon Absence
© Katherine Philips
Tis now since I began to die
Four months, yet still I gasping live;
Wrappd up in sorrow do I lie,
Hoping, yet doubting a reprieve.
Adam from Paradise expelld
Just such a wretched being held.
The Truth is Blind
© David Gascoyne
Autumnal breath of mornings far from here
A star veiled in grey mist
A living man:
Intezar (Waiting)
© Makhdoom Mohiuddin
aa bhi jaa taakey merey sajdo.n kaa aramaa.N nikaley
aa bhi jaa key terey qadamo.n pey meri jaa.N nikaley
Immortal Sails
© Alfred Noyes
Now, in a breath, we’ll burst those gates of gold,
And ransack heaven before our moment fails.
Now, in a breath, before we, too, grow old,
We’ll mount and sing and spread immortal sails.
Memory
© William Wordsworth
A pen-to register; a key-
That winds through secret wards
Are well assigned to Memory
By allegoric Bards.
Scallop Song
© Anne Waldman
I wore a garland of the briar that put me now in awe
I wore a garland of the brain that was whole
To Women 27
© Robert Laurence Binyon
From hearts that are as one high heart
Withholding naught from doom and bale
Burningly offered up, to bleed,
To bear, to break, but not to fail !
“Alone I stare into the frost’s white face”
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Alone I stare into the frost’s white face.
It’s going nowhere, and I—from nowhere.
Everything ironed flat, pleated without a wrinkle:
Miraculous, the breathing plain.
A Child My Choice
© Robert Southwell
Let folly praise that fancy loves, I praise and love that Child
Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, whose hand no deed defiled.
Memorizing “The Sun Rising” by John Donne
© Billy Collins
Every reader loves the way he tells off
the sun, shouting busy old fool
into the English skies even though they
were likely cloudy on that seventeenth-century morning.
Die Liebe
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Ohne Liebe
Lebe, wer da kann.
Wenn er auch ein Mensch schon bliebe,
Bleibt er doch kein Mann.
Sonnets from the Portuguese 14: If Thou
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
Rural Rambles - The Village
© Ebenezer Elliott
Sweet village! where my early days were pass'd,
Though parted long, we meet, we meet at last!
I Was Never Able To Pray
© Edward Hirsch
Wheel me down to the shore
where the lighthouse was abandoned
and the moon tolls in the rafters.
The Angler's Song
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
From the river's plashy bank,
Where the sedge grows green and rank,
And the twisted woodbine springs,
Upward speeds the morning lark
To its silver cloud -- and hark!
On his way the woodman sings.
Sanctuary
© James Russell Lowell
Those not caught, scratch sand up
to sleep against underbellies
of roots and stones.
