All Poems
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An Epistle Containing the Strange Medical Experience of Karshish, the Arab Physician
© Robert Browning
Karshish, the picker-up of learning's crumbs,
The not-incurious in God's handiwork
Inside of King's College Chapel, Cambridge
© André Breton
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense,
The Tui.
© Arthur Henry Adams
Alchemist of melody,
Drop by drop distilling!
Hidden high on some tall tree,
Alchemist of melody;
The House-Top
© Herman Melville
No sleep. The sultriness pervades the air
And blinds the brain-a dense oppression, such
Trapped Dingo
© Judith Wright
So here, twisted in steel, and spoiled with red
your sunlight hide, smelling of death and fear,
The Rape of Europa
© Ovid
From "Metamorphoses," Book II, 846-875
Majesty is incompatible truly with love; they cohabit
On Looking Through an old Punishment Book [At Eurunderee School]
© Henry Lawson
I took the book of punishment,
And ran its columns down;
After Rain
© Lesbia Harford
Today
I'd like to be a nun
And go and say
My rosary beneath the trees out there.
A Letter From A Stupid Woman
© Nizar Qabbani
Don't become annoyed, my dear Master,
If I revealed to you my feelings
For the Eastern man
Is not concerned with poetry or feelings
The Eastern man - and forgive my insolence - does not understand women
but over the sheets.
Strikers in Hyde Park
© Louise Imogen Guiney
What ails thee, England? Altar, mart, and grange
Dream of the knife by night; not so, not so
The clear Republic waits the general throe,
Along her noonday mountains’ open range.
God be with both! for one is young to know
The other’s rote of evil and of change.
On Christmas Eve
© William Wilfred Campbell
In byre and barn the mows are brim with sheaves,
Where stealeth in with phosphorescent tread
The glimmering moon, and, neath his wattled eaves,
The kennelled hound unto the darkness grieves
His chilly straw, and from his gloom-lit shed,
The wakeful cock proclaims the midnight dread.
The Redbreast Chasing The Butterfly
© William Wordsworth
ART thou the bird whom Man loves best,
The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The bird that comes about our doors
A Woman on the Dump
© Debora Greger
Is it peace,
Is it a philosopher’s honeymoon, one finds
On the dump?
—Wallace Stevens
Out of the cracks of cups and their handles, missing,
the leaves unceremoniously tossed, unread,
from a stubble of coffee ground ever more finely
into these hollowed grounds,
Horace, Book I. Ode XXXVIII.
© William Cowper
Boy, I hate their empty shows,
Persian garlands I detest,
The Happy Slow Thinker
© Edgar Albert Guest
Full many a time a thought has come
That had a bitter meaning in it.
And in the conversation's hum
I lost it ere I could begin it.
Ye Flowery Banks (Bonie Doon)
© Robert Burns
Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?
