All Poems
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A Chanted Calendar
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Then came the daisies,
On the first of May,
Like a banner'd show's advance
While the crowd runs by the way,
With ten thousand flowers about them
they came trooping through the fields.
De Nice Leetle Canadienne
© William Henry Drummond
You can pass on de worl' w'erever you lak,
Tak' de steamboat for go Angleterre,
Name Sakes
© Alfred Noyes
BUT where's the brown drifter that went out alone ?
-Roll and go, and fare you well-
" Was her name Peggy Nutten? " That name is my own.
Fare you well, my sailor.
In Memoriam Paul Celan
© Edward Hirsch
Lay these words into the dead man's grave
next to the almonds and black cherries---
tiny skulls and flowering blood-drops, eyes,
and Thou, O bitterness that pillows his head.
Limerick: There was an Old Man on some rocks,
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man on some rocks,
Who shut his wife up in a box;
When she said, 'Let me out!'
He exclaimed, 'Without doubt,
You will pass all your life in that box.'
Edward Hirsch
© Edward Hirsch
A hook shot kisses the rim and
hangs there, helplessly, but doesn't drop,
When It's Over
© Max Plowman
"Young soldier, what will you be At the day's end?"
"Tired's what I'll be. I shall lie on the beach
Of a shore where the rippling waves just sigh,
And listen and dream and sleep and lie
Forgetting what I've had to learn and teach
And attack and defend."
On Catullus
© Walter Savage Landor
Tell me not what too well I know
About the bard of Sirmio.
Yes, in Thalias son
Such stains there areas when a Grace
Sprinkles anothers laughing face
With nectar, and runs on.
The Maid's Lament
© Walter Savage Landor
I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone,
I feel I am alone.
I check'd him while he spoke; yet, could he speak,
Alas! I would not check.
He Is Safe
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
'And it shall come to pass at eventide
There shall be light.' Lord, it hath come to pass.
As one day to the world so now to me
Thine advent. My dark eve is white as noon;
My year so sour and green is gold and red;
Mine eyes have seen Thy Goodness. All is done.
Of Clementina
© Walter Savage Landor
In Clementinas artless mien
Lucilla asks me what I see,
And are the roses of sixteen
Enough for me?
To Mr. John Bartlett
© James Russell Lowell
Fit for an Abbot of Theleme,
For the whole Cardinals' College, or
The Pope himself to see in dream
Before his lenten vision gleam.
He lies there, the sogdologer!
Why, Why Repine
© Walter Savage Landor
Why, why repine, my pensive friend,
At pleasures slipp'd away?
Some the stern Fates will never lend,
And all refuse to stay.
Ambition
© Madison Julius Cawein
Now to my lips lift then some opiate
Of black forgetfulness! while in thy gaze
Alciphron and Leucippe
© Walter Savage Landor
Leucippe. But I would rather go when they
Sit round about and sing and play.
Then why so hurry me? for you
Like play and song, and shepherds too.
At Vaucluse
© Alfred Austin
By Avignon's dismantled walls,
Where cloudless mid-March sunshine falls,
Rhone, through broad belts of green,
Flecked with the light of almond groves,
Upon itself reverting, roves
Reluctant from the scene.
Acon and Rhodope
© Walter Savage Landor
Fathers have given life, but virgin heart
They never gave; and dare they then control
Or check it harshly? dare they break a bond
Girt round it by the holiest Power on high?
The Decembrist
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
"To this the pagan senate bears witness:
-- THESE DEEDS SHALL NEVER DIE! -- "
He lit his pipe and wrapped his cloak around
While some play chess nearby.
To Age
© Walter Savage Landor
Welcome, old friend! These many years
Have we lived door by door;
The fates have laid aside their shears
Perhaps for some few more.
