All Poems
/ page 2096 of 3210 /
Chaap Tilak
© Amir Khusro
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
The Donor
© Rainer Maria Rilke
They put you in the picture if you pay.
So even if you didn't see the Savior,
And even if the holy bishop's hand
Didn't guide you in devout behavior
(Kneeling, near the border, looking bland),
In the painting it appeared that way.
The Murdered Traveller
© William Cullen Bryant
When spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again,
The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.
The Waiting
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I wait and watch: before my eyes
Methinks the night grows thin and gray;
I wait and watch the eastern skies
To see the golden spears uprise
Beneath the oriflamme of day!
Song (Untitled#1)
© George Meredith
Love within the lover's breast
Burns like Hesper in the west,
O'er the ashes of the sun,
Till the day and night are done;
Then when dawn drives up her car -
Lo! it is the morning star.
Another Chance
© Henry Van Dyke
A DRAMATIC LYRIC
Come, give me back my life again, you heavy-handed Death!
Sonnet 43: When most I wink then do mine eyes best see
© William Shakespeare
When most I wink then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected,
The Pathway Of Rivers
© Henry Van Dyke
The rivers of God are full of water,
They are wonderful in the renewal of their strength,
He poureth them out from a hidden fountain.
Maya
© Catherine Pozzi
Je descends les degrés de siècles et de sable
Qui retournent à vous l'instant désespéré
Terre des temples d'or, j'entre dans votre fable
Atlantique adoré.
At The Sound Of The Drum
© Edith Nesbit
ARE you going for a soldier with your curly yellow hair,
And a scarlet coat instead of the smock you used to wear?
Are you going to drive the foe as you used to drive the plough?
Are you going for a soldier now?
The New-Born Infant
© Charles Lamb
Whether beneath sweet beds of roses,
As foolish little Ann supposes,
Through Pleasant Paths
© James Lionel Michael
Through pleasant paths, through dainty ways,
Love leads my feet;
Bristowe Tragedie: Or The Dethe Of Syr Charles Badwin
© Thomas Chatterton
THE featherd songster chaunticleer
Han wounde hys bugle horne,
Horaces Philosophy
© Robert Fuller Murray
What the end the gods have destined unto thee and unto me,
Ask not: 'tis forbidden knowledge. Be content, Leuconoe.
Let alone the fortune-tellers. How much better to endure
Whatsoever shall betide useven though we be not sure
John Sutter
© Yvor Winters
I was the patriarch of the shining land,
Of the blond summer and metallic grain;
Men vanished at the motion of my hand,
And when I beckoned they would come again.
