All Poems
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Book Of Suleika - The Loving One Speaks
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
AND wherefore sends not
The horseman-captain
His heralds hither
To May
© Ellis Parker Butler
I have no heart to write verses to May;
I have no heartyet Im cheerful today;
I have no heartshe has won mine away
SoI have no heart to write verses to May.
The Stoic: For Laura Von Courten
© Edgar Bowers
All winter long you listened for the boom
Of distant cannon wheeled into their place.
Sometimes outside beneath a bombers moon
You stood alone to watch the searchlights trace
The Shepherd O The Farm
© William Barnes
Oh! I be shepherd o' the farm,
Wi' tinklèn bells an' sheep-dog's bark,
An' wi' my crook a-thirt my eärm,
Here I do rove below the lark.
Content Written Off Ithica
© Alfred Austin
I could not find the little maid Content,
So out I rushed, and sought her far and wide;
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 05
© William Langland
The Kyng and hise knyghtes to the kirke wente
To here matyns of the day and the masse after.
On The Palatine
© Arthur Symons
I have lived, loved, and lost; I crave
Nothing again of all life gave;
I only crave to find
Oblivion for the mind.
To Dr. Mead, On His Cape Wine.
© Mary Barber
Your Wine, by Southern Suns refin'd,
Is a just Emblem of your Mind:
Like You, the gen'rous Juice displays
Its Influence a thousand Ways;
Consolation
© Francois de Malherbe
Will then, Duperrier, thy sorrow be eternal?
And shall the sad discourse
Whispered within thy heart, by tenderness paternal,
Only augment its force?
The Song Of The Bower
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
SAY, is it day, is it dusk in thy bower,
Thou whom I long for, who longest for me?
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
HE LAMENTS THAT HIS LOVE IS DEAD
My love is dead, dead and in spite of me,--
Dead while I lived,--while yet my blood was rife
With hope and pleasure and the pride of life.
Cassandra
© Louise Bogan
To me, one silly task is like another.
I bare the shambling tricks of lust and pride.
The Lost Garden
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
There was a fair green garden sloping
From the south-east side of the mountain-ledge;
And the earliest tint of the dawn came groping
Down through its paths, from the day's dim edge.
The Bonny Hind
© Andrew Lang
O May she comes, and may she goes,
Down by yon gardens green,
And there she spied a gallant squire
As squire had ever been.
Voyages VI
© Hart Crane
Where icy and bright dungeons lift
Of swimmers their lost morning eyes,
And ocean rivers, churning, shift
Green borders under stranger skies,
More Sonnets At Christmas IV
© Allen Tate
Thus light, your flesh made pale and sinister
And put off like a dog that's had his day,
You will be Plato's kept philosopher,
Albino man bleached from the mortal clay,
Mild-mannered, gifted in your master's ease
While the sun squats upon the waveless seas.
Tema Con Variazioni
© Lewis Carroll
I NEVER loved a dear Gazelle -
Nor anything that cost me much:
High prices profit those who sell;
But why should I be fond of such?
To glad me with his soft black eye
My son comes trotting home from school;
He's had a fight but can't tell why
He always was a little fool!"
Alison Gross
© Andrew Lang
O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow'r,
The ugliest witch in the north countrie,
She trysted me ae day up till her bow'r,
And mony fair speeches she made to me.
