All Poems
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An Autumn Garden
© Bliss William Carman
For the ancient and virile nurture
Of the teeming primordial ground,
For the splendid gospel of color,
Rollicking Hans.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
If I depart from this sad sphere,
And leave a will behind me here,
A suit at law will be preferr'd,
But as for thanks,--the deuce a word!
So ere I die, I squander all,
And that a proper will I call.
Untitled 4
© Owen Suffolk
Mother! Darling mother, you are seeking me I know,
And I feel thy love will follow through the world where'er I go;
Next Year's Spring.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE bed of flowersLoosens amain,
The beauteous snowdropsDroop o'er the plain.
The crocus opensIts glowing bud,
Like emeralds others,Others, like blood.
The Three Monuments
© William Butler Yeats
THEY hold their public meetings where
Our most renowned patriots stand,
Phoebus And Hermes.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
DELOS' stately ruler, and Maia's son, the adroit one,Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain.
Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim'd by Apollo,Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish'd by hope.
For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive,Dashing in twain the gold toy, brandishing wildly his sword.
Hermes, malicious one, laughed beyond measure; yet deep-seated sorrowSeized upon Phoebus's heart, seized on the heart of each Muse. 1799.*
Celebrity.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[A satire on his own Sorrows of Werther.]ON bridges small and bridges great
Stands Nepomucks in ev'ry state,
Of bronze, wood, painted, or of stone,
Some small as dolls, some giants grown;
Winter Sunrise
© Robert Laurence Binyon
It is early morning within this room; without,
Dark and damp; without and within, stillness
Waiting for day: not a sound but a listening air.
Requirement
© John Greenleaf Whittier
We live by Faith; but Faith is not the slave
Of text and legend. Reason's voice and God's,
Vanitas! Vanitatum Vanitas!
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Hurrah!
Then he who would be a comrade of mine
Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine,
Over these dregs of wine.
The Sky-Larks Song
© Augusta Davies Webster
WINGED voice to tell the skies of earth,
Dear earth-born lark, sing on, sing clear,
Sing into heaven that she may hear
;Sing what thou wilt, so she but know
Thine ecstasy of summer mirth
And think "'Tis from the world below!"
The Bride Of Corinth.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[First published in Schiller's Horen, in connection
with a
friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two
great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.]
The Dungeon
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And this place our forefathers made for man!
This is the process of our Love and Wisdom,
To each poor brother who offends against us--
Most innocent, perhaps--and what if guilty?
The Wanderer.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[Published in the Gottingen Musen Almanach,
having been written "to express his feelings and caprices" after
his separation from Frederica.]
Olney Hymn 26: On Opening A Place For Social Prayer
© William Cowper
Jesus! where'er Thy people meet,
There they behold Thy mercy seat;
Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found,
And every place is hallow'd ground.
Human Feelings.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
AH, ye gods! ye great immortals
In the spacious heavens above us!
Would ye on this earth but give us
Steadfast minds and dauntless courage
We, oh kindly ones, would leave you
All your spacious heavens above us!
Woman! When I Behold Thee Flippant, Vain
© John Keats
Woman! when I behold thee flippant, vain,
Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of fancies;
Without that modest softening that enhances
The downcast eye, repentant of the pain
Fairy Tale
© Boris Pasternak
Once, in times forgotten,
In a fairy place,
Through the steppe, a rider
Made his way apace.
Lord Thomas And Fair Annet
© Andrew Lang
Lord Thomas and Fair Annet
Sate a' day on a hill;
Whan night was cum, and sun was sett,
They had not talkt their fill.
Three Odes To My Friend.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[These three Odes are addressed to a certain
Behrisch, who was tutor to Count Lindenau, and of whom Goethe gives
an odd account at the end of the Seventh Book of his Autobiography.]
