All Poems
/ page 2147 of 3210 /
Scattering Flowers
© George Hitchcock
There is a dark tolling in the air,
an unbearable needle in the vein,
the horizon flaked with feathers of rust.
From the caves of drugged flowers
fireflies rise through the night:
they bear the sweet gospel of napalm.
The Goblet.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ONCE I held a well-carved brimming goblet,--
In my two hands tightly clasp'd I held it,
Eagerly the sweet wine sipp'd I from it,
Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow.
Meditation Twenty
© Edward Taylor
View, all ye eyes above, this sight which flings
Seraphick Phancies in Chill Raptures high:
A Turffe of Clay, and yet bright Glories King:
From dust to Glory Angell-like to fly.
A Mortall Clod immortalizd behold,
Flyes through the skies swifter than Angells could.
Genial Impulse.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THUS roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes,
Now serious am, now seek to please;
Now love and hate in turn one sees;
Time And The Lady
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Haste, maiden, haste! the spray has come to budding,
The dawn creeps o'er the heavens gold and fair.
The Fool's Epilogue.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
MANY good works I've done and ended,
Ye take the praise--I'm not offended;
For in the world, I've always thought
Each thing its true position hath sought.
Evening.
© Robert Crawford
The light is drawn out of the leaves and grass,
And the sweet flowers grow pale in the gray air,
As if their beauty's essence e'en did pass
With the departing light from all things fair,
I. The Pariah's Prayer
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
DREADED Brama, lord of might!All proceed from thee alone;
Thou art he who judgeth right!Dost thou none but Brahmins own?
Do but Rajahs come from thee?None but those of high estate?Didst not thou the ape create,
Aye, and even such as we?We are not of noble kind,For with woe our lot is rife;
A Woman's Question
© Adelaide Anne Procter
Before I trust my fate to thee,
Or place my hand in thine,
Sonnet 46: Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war
© William Shakespeare
Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war,
How to divide the conquest of thy sight,
A Parable.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I PICKED a rustic nosegay lately,
And bore it homewards, musing greatly;
When, heated by my hand, I found
The heads all drooping tow'rd the ground.
Reciprocal.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
MY mistress, where sits she?What is it that charms?
The absent she's rocking,Held fast in her arms.In pretty cage prison'dShe holds a bird still;
Yet lets him fly from her,Whenever he will.He pecks at her finger,And pecks at her lips,
And hovers and flutters,And round her he skips.Then hasten thou homeward,In fashion to be;
Burial.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A maiden;
To the window the citizens went to explore;
In splendour they lived, and with wealth as of yore
The God And The Bayadere.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[This very fine Ballad was also first given in the Horen.]
(MAHADEVA is one of the numerous names of Seeva, the destroyer,--
the great god of the Brahmins.)
The Two Founts. Stanzas Addressed To A Lady On Her Recovery, With Unblemished Looks, From A Severe A
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
'Twas my last waking thought, how it could be,
That thou, sweet friend, such anguish should'st endure
When straight from Dreamland came a dwarf, and he
Could tell the cause, forsooth, and knew the cure.
To Lida.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Far from thee, in life's turmoils nought I see
Save a thin veil, through which thy form I view,
As though in clouds; with kindly smile and true,
To Mr Edward Howard, on his Incomparable, Incomprehensible Poem Called The British Prince
© Charles Sackville
Come on, ye critics! Find one fault who dare,
For, read it backward like a witch's prayer,
The Magic Net.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Ere the net is noticed by us,
Is a happier one imprison'd,
Whom we, one and all, together
Greet with envy and with blessings.
The Morning of Love
© Thomas Love Peacock
O! The spring-time of life is the season of blooming,
And the morning of love is the season of joy;
