All Poems

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Dirce

© Walter Savage Landor

Stand close around, ye Stygian set,
With Dirce in one boat conveyed,
Or Charon, seeing, may forget
That he is old and she a shade.

THERE is a mountain and a wood between us,
Where the lone shepherd and late bird have seen us
Morning and noon and eventide repass.
Between us now the mountain and the wood
Seem standing darker than last year they stood,
And say we must not cross--alas! alas!

To Christina, Queen of Sweden

© Andrew Marvell

Verses to accompany a portrait of Cromwell

Bright Martial Maid, Queen of the frozen zone,

Years

© Walter Savage Landor

Years, many parti-colourd years,
Some have crept on, and some have flown
Since first before me fell those tears
I never could see fall alone.

The Resolve

© Sir Walter Scott

In Imitation of An Old English Poem

My wayward fate I needs must plain,

Autumn

© Walter Savage Landor

MILD is the parting year, and sweet
The odour of the falling spray;
Life passes on more rudely fleet,
And balmless is its closing day.

A Song in Time of Revolution. 1860

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

THE HEART of the rulers is sick, and the high-priest covers his head:

For this is the song of the quick that is heard in the ears of the dead.

On His Seventy-fifth Birthday

© Walter Savage Landor

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife;
Nature I loved, and next to Nature, Art;
I warmed both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

Corinna, from Athens, to Tanagra

© Walter Savage Landor

Tanagra! think not I forget

Thy beautifully-storeyd streets;

Well I Remember How You Smiled

© Walter Savage Landor

Well I remember how you smiled
To see me write your name upon
The soft sea-sand . . . "O! what a child!
You think you're writing upon stone!"

Hic Jacet

© William Carlos Williams

The coroner's merry little children
Have such twinkling brown eyes.
Their father is not of gay men
And their mother jocular in no wise,
Yet the coroner's merry little children
Laugh so easily.

The Prayer

© Mikhail Lermontov

When faints the heart for sorrow,
In life's hard, darkened hour,
My spirit breathes a wondrous prayer
Full of love's inward power.

On His Eightieth Birthday

© Walter Savage Landor

To my ninth decade I have tottered on,
And no soft arm bends now my steps to steady;
She, who once led me where she would, is gone,
So when he calls me, Death shall find me ready.

Altarwise By Owl-Light

© Dylan Thomas

Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house

The gentleman lay graveward with his furies;

Seraphita

But when the storm is highest, and the thunders blare,
And sea and sky are riven, O moon of all my night!
Stoop down but once in pity of my great despair,
And let thine hand, though over late to help, alight
But once upon my pale eyes and my drowning hair,
Before the great waves conquer in the last vain fight.

Agatha

SHE wanders in the April woods,
That glisten with the fallen shower;
She leans her face against the buds,
She stops, she stoops, she plucks a flower.

The Trio

We love but once. The great gold orb of light
From dawn to even-tide doth cast his ray;
But the full splendor of his perfect might
Is reached but once throughout the livelong day.

At His Grave

LEAVE me a little while alone,
Here at his grave that still is strown
With crumbling flower and wreath;
The laughing rivulet leaps and falls,
The thrush exults, the cuckoo calls,
And he lies hushd beneath.