All Poems
/ page 2073 of 3210 /Princesse Loysa Drawing
© Richard Lovelace
I saw a little Diety,
MINERVA in epitomy,
Whom VENUS, at first blush, surpris'd,
Tooke for her winged wagge disguis'd.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book II - Swayamvara (The Bride's Choice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and
when Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of
the late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan
and his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to
kill the sons of Pandu.
The Dying Adrian To His Soul
© Matthew Prior
Poor, little, pretty, fluttering thing,
Must we no longer live together?
Sonnet IV. To The Moon
© Charlotte Turner Smith
QUEEN of the silver bow!--by thy pale beam,
Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream,
Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way.
'By Reason Of Thy Law'
© Francis Thompson
Here I make oath--
Although the heart that knows its bitterness
Oh When Will Autumn Moon and Spring Flowers End
© Li Yu
Oh when will autumn moon and spring flowers end?
How many past events I've known.
Sonnet LXXII. To The Morning Star
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written near the sea.
THEE! lucid arbiter 'twixt day and night,
The seaman greets, as on the ocean stream
Reflected, thy precursive friendly beam
Benedict Brosse
© Susie Frances Harrison
I
HALE, and though sixty, without a stoop,
What does old Benedict want with a wife?
Can he not make his own pea soup?
The True Bible
© Sam Walter Foss
What is the worlds true Bible -- tis the highest thought of man,
The thought distilled through ages since the dawn of thought began.
And each age adds a word thereto, some psalm or promise sweet --
And the canon is unfinished and forever incomplete.
Oer the chapters that are written, long and lovingly we pore --
But the best is yet unwritten, for we grow from more to more.
The Egocentrics
© Piet Hein
People are self-centred
to a nauseous degree.
They will keep on about themselves
while I'm explaining me.
The Waggoner - Canto First
© William Wordsworth
'TIS spent--this burning day of June!
Soft darkness o'er its latest gleams is stealing;
The buzzing dor-hawk, round and round, is wheeling,--
That solitary bird
Lucasta's World Epode
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Cold as the breath of winds that blow
To silver shot descending snow,
Lucasta sigh't; when she did close
A Tear And A Smile
© Khalil Gibran
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.
Life, A Language.
© Robert Crawford
Life is a language every man must use,
Some with a wondrous faculty, and some
So blindly that they seem like Caliban
Or e'er the good and great magician took
Pity upon his impotence, and made
The discord of his reason musical.
Psychological Warfare
© Henry Reed
Be that as it may, some time in the very near future,
We are to expect Invasion… and invasion not from the sea.
Vast numbers of troops will be dropped, probably from above,
Superbly equipped, determined and capable; and this above all,
Remember: they will be very brave men, and chosen as such.
Christmas Shopping in Cactus Center
© Arthur Chapman
Women's scarce in Cactus Center, and there ain't no bargain stores
Fer to start them Monday rushes that break down the stoutest doors;
But we had some Christmas shoppin' that the town ain't over yet,
Jest because of one small woman and a drug store toilet set.
Husbands Overseas
© Lloyd Roberts
Each morning they sit down to their little bites of bread,
To six warm bowls of porridge and a broken mug or two.
And each simple soul is happy and each hungry mouth is fed
Then why should she be smiling as the weary-hearted do?
The Root
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Deep, Love, yea, very deep.
And in the dark exiled,
I have no sense of light but still to creep
And know the breast, but not the eyes. Thy child
Saw ne'er his mother near, nor if she smiled;
But only feels her weep.
Voices of Earth
© Archibald Lampman
We have not heard the music of the spheres,
The song of star to star, but there are sounds
More deep than human joy and human tears,
That Nature uses in her common rounds;
Broadmindedness
© Franklin Pierce Adams
How narrow his vision, how cribbed and confined!
How prejudiced all of his views!
How hard is the shell of his bigoted mind!
How difficult he to excuse!