All Poems
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Stanzas
© Mary Darby Robinson
WHEN fragrant gales and summer show'rs
Call'd forth the sweetly scented flow'rs;
When ripen'd sheaves of golden grain,
Strew'd their rich treasures o'er the plain;
Interval of Joy
© Giorgos Seferis
"É cannot explain it," you said, "É cannot explain it,"
É find people impossible to understand
however much they may play with colors
they are all black.
Sonnet. Inscribed to Her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire
© Mary Darby Robinson
'TIS NOT thy flowing hair of orient gold,
Nor those bright eyes, like sapphire gems that glow;
Nor cheek of blushing rose, nor breast of snow,
The varying passions of the heart could hold:
A Fragment
© Thomas Love Peacock
Nay, deem me not insensible, Cesario,
To female charms; nor think this heart of mine
Sonnet XXXVIII: Oh Sigh
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh Sigh! thou steal'st, the herald of the breast,
The lover's fears, the lover's pangs to tell;
Thou bid'st with timid grace the bosom swell,
Cheating the day of joy, the night of rest!
Sonnet 104: "To me, fair friend, you never can be old,..."
© William Shakespeare
To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,
Sonnet XXXVII: When, in the Gloomy Mansion
© Mary Darby Robinson
When, in the gloomy mansion of the dead,
This with'ring heart, this faded form shall sleep;
When these fond eyes, at length shall cease to weep,
And earth's cold lap receive this fev'rish head;
Sonnet XXXVI: Lead Me, Sicilian Maids
© Mary Darby Robinson
Lead me, Sicilian Maids, to haunted bow'rs,
While yon pale moon displays her faintest beams
O'er blasted woodlands, and enchanted streams,
Whose banks infect the breeze with pois'nous flow'rs.
A Cloud In Trousers - part IV
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
In the streets
men will prick the blubber of four-story craws,
thrust out their little eyes,
worn in forty years of wear and tear to snigger
at my champing
again! on the hard crust of yesterday's caress.
Sonnet XXXV: What Means the Mist
© Mary Darby Robinson
What means the mist opaque that veils these eyes;
Why does yon threat'ning tempest shroud the day?
Why does thy altar, Venus, fade away,
And on my breast the dews of horror rise?
Margaritae Sorori
© William Ernest Henley
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Sonnet XXXIX: Prepare Your Wreaths
© Mary Darby Robinson
Prepare your wreaths, Aonian maids divine,
To strew the tranquil bed where I shall sleep;
In tears, the myrtle and the laurel steep,
And let Erato's hand the trophies twine.
One Song, America, Before I Go
© Walt Whitman
ONE song, America, before I go,
I'd sing, o'er all the rest, with trumpet sound,
For thee-the Future.
Sonnet XXXIV: Venus! To Thee
© Mary Darby Robinson
Venus! to thee, the Lesbian Muse shall sing,
The song, which Myttellenian youths admir'd,
when Echo, am'rous of the strain inspir'd,
Bade the wild rocks with madd'ning plaudits ring!
Inheritance
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
DESOLATE strange sleep and wild
Came on me while yet a child;
I, before I tasted tears,
Knew the grief of all the years.
Sonnet XXXIII: I Wake
© Mary Darby Robinson
I wake! delusive phantoms hence, away!
Tempt not the weakness of a lover's breast;
The softest breeze can shake the halcyon's nest,
And lightest clouds o'ercast the dawning ray!
Sonnet XXXII: Blest As the Gods
© Mary Darby Robinson
Blest as the Gods! Sicilian Maid is he,
The youth whose soul thy yielding graces charm;
Who bound, O! thraldom sweet! by beauty's arm,
In idle dalliance fondly sports with thee!
Sonnet XXXI: Far O'er the Waves
© Mary Darby Robinson
Far o'er the waves my lofty Bark shall glide,
Love's frequent sighs the flutt'ring sails shall swell,
While to my native home I bid farewell,
Hope's snowy hand the burnis'd helm shall guide!
Sounds of grief
© Sappho
Must I remind you, Cleis,
that sounds of grief
are unbecoming in
a poet's household?
