All Poems
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The Moon-Path
© Archibald Lampman
The full, clear moon uprose and spread
Her cold, pale splendor o'er the sea;
Dockery And Son
© Philip Larkin
'Dockery was junior to you,
Wasn't he?' said the Dean. 'His son's here now.'
Death-suited, visitant, I nod. 'And do
You keep in touch with-' Or remember how
He Hears That His Beloved Has Become Engaged
© Philip Larkin
But no. What you did, any of us might.
And saying so I see our difference:
Not your aplomb (I used mine to sit tight),
But fancying you improve her. Where's the sense
In saying love, but meaning indifference ?
You'll only change her. Still, I'm sure you're right.
I Remember, I Remember
© Philip Larkin
Coming up England by a different line
For once, early in the cold new year,
We stopped, and, watching men with number plates
Sprint down the platform to familiar gates,
'Why, Coventry!' I exclaimed. 'I was born here.'
Brune
© François Coppée
Sur le terrain de foire, au grand soleil brûlé,
Le cirque des chevaux de bois s'est ébranlé
Et l'orgue attaque l'air connu: "Tant mieux pour elle!"
Mais la brune grisette a fermé son ombrelle,
On The Victory Obtained By Blake Over the Spaniards, In The
© Andrew Marvell
Now does Spains Fleet her spatious wings unfold,
Leaves the new World and hastens for the old:
But though the wind was fair, the slowly swoome
Frayted with acted Guilt, and Guilt to come:
Going
© Philip Larkin
There is an evening coming in
Across the fields, one never seen before,
That lights no lamps.
Wedding Wind
© Philip Larkin
The wind blew all my wedding-day,
And my wedding-night was the night of the high wind;
And a stable door was banging, again and again,
That he must go and shut it, leaving me
Money
© Philip Larkin
Quarterly, is it, money reproaches me:
'Why do you let me lie here wastefully?
I am all you never had of goods and sex,
You could get them still by writing a few cheques.'
Inscription on a Grotto, the Work of Nine Ladies.
© Alexander Pope
Here, shunning idleness at once and praise,
This radiant pile nine rural sisters raise;
Sunny Prestatyn
© Philip Larkin
Come to Sunny Prestatyn
Laughed the girl on the poster,
Kneeling up on the sand
In tautened white satin.
In Early May
© Bliss William Carman
O MY dear, the world to-day
Is more lovely than a dream!
Magic hints from far away
Haunt the woodland, and the stream
I Have Started To Say
© Philip Larkin
I have started to say
"A quarter of a century"
Or "thirty years back"
About my own life.
Quinquagesima Sunday
© John Keble
Sweet Dove! the softest, steadiest plume,
In all the sunbright sky,
Brightening in ever-changeful bloom
As breezes change on high; -
Mcmxiv
© Philip Larkin
Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
Orlie Wilde
© James Whitcomb Riley
A goddess, with a siren's grace,-
A sun-haired girl on a craggy place
Above a bay where fish-boats lay
Drifting about like birds of prey.
If Hands Could Free You, Heart
© Philip Larkin
If hands could free you, heart,
Where would you fly?
Far, beyond every part
Of earth this running sky
Anchored
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
If thro' the sea of night
which here summons me,
I could swim out beyond
the farthest star,
