All Poems
/ page 2425 of 3210 /
Sonnet XXX: O'er the Tall Cliff
© Mary Darby Robinson
O'er the tall cliff that bounds the billowy main
Shad'wing the surge that sweeps the lonely strand,
While the thin vapours break along the sand,
Day's harbinger unfolds the liquid plain.
The Last Toast
© Anna Akhmatova
I drink to home, that is lost,
To evil life of mine,
To loneness in which were both,
And to your future, fine, --
Sonnet XXVIII: Weak Is the Sophistry
© Mary Darby Robinson
Weak is the sophistry, and vain the art
That whispers patience to the mind's despair!
That bids reflection bathe the wounds of care,
While Hope, with pleasing phantoms, soothes their smart.
The Dream of Man
© William Watson
To the eye and the ear of the Dreamer
This Dream out of darkness flew,
Through the horn or the ivory portal,
But he wist not which of the two.
Sonnet XXVII: Oh! Ye Bright Stars
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh! ye bright Stars! that on the Ebon fields
Of Heav'n's empire, trembling seems to stand;
'Till rosy morn unlocks her portal bland,
Where the proud Sun his fiery banner wields!
Sonnet XXVI: Where Antique Woods
© Mary Darby Robinson
Where antique woods o'er-hang the mountains's crest,
And mid-day glooms in solemn silence lour;
Philosophy, go seek a lonely bow'r,
And waste life's fervid noon in fancied rest.
The Lost Piece Of Silver
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
HOLY Lord Jesus, Thou wilt search till Thou find
This lost piece of silver,--this treasure enshrined
In casket or bosom, once of such store;
Now lying under the dust of Thy floor.
Sonnet XXV: Can'st Thou Forget
© Mary Darby Robinson
Can'st thou forget, O! Idol of my Soul!
Thy Sappho's voice, her form, her dulcet Lyre!
That melting ev'ry thought to fond desire,
Bade sweet delerium o'er thy senses roll?
Sonnet LXVII : The Landmark
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Was that the landmark? What,the foolish well
Whose wave, low down, I did not stoop to drink,
Sonnet XXIX: Farewell, Ye Tow'ring Cedars
© Mary Darby Robinson
Farewell, ye tow'ring Cedars, in whose shade,
Lull'd by the Nightingale, I sunk to rest,
While spicy breezes hover'd o'er my breast
To fan my cheek, in deep'ning tints array'd;
Democritus And Heraclitus
© Matthew Prior
Democritus, dear droll, revisit earth,
And with our follies glut thy heighten'd mirth:
Sad Heraclitus, serious wretch, return,
In louder grief our greater crimes to mourn,
Between you both I unconcern'd stand by;
Hurt can I lauh? and honest need I cry?
Sonnet XXIV: O Thou! Meek Orb
© Mary Darby Robinson
O thou! meek Orb! that stealing o'er the dale
Cheer'st with thy modest beams the noon of night!
On the smooth lake diffusing silv'ry light,
Sublimely still, and beautifully pale!
Sonnet XXIII: To Aetna's Scorching Sands
© Mary Darby Robinson
To AEtna's scorching sands my Phaon flies!
False Youth! can other charms attractive prove?
Say, can Sicilian loves thy passions move,
Play round thy heart, and fix thy fickle eyes,
Sailing Home From Rapallo
© Robert Lowell
[February 1954]
Your nurse could only speak Italian,
but after twenty minutes I could imagine your final week,
and tears ran down my cheeks....
Sonnet XXII: Wild Is the Foaming Sea
© Mary Darby Robinson
Wild is the foaming Sea! The surges roar!
And nimbly dart the livid lightnings round!
On the rent rock the angry waves rebound;
Ah me! the less'ning bark is seen no more!
Sonnet XLII: I Hunt For A Sign Of You
© Pablo Neruda
I hunt for a sign of you in all the others,
In the rapid undulant river of women,
Braids, shyly sinking eyes,
Light step that slices, sailing through the foam.
Sonnet XXI: Why Do I Live
© Mary Darby Robinson
Why do I live to loath the cheerful day,
To shun the smiles of Fame, and mark the hours
On tardy pinions move, while ceaseless show'rs
Down my wan cheek in lucid currents stray?
Old Fighting-Men
© Rudyard Kipling
All the world over, nursing their scars,
Sit the old fighting-men broke in the wars-
Sit the old fighting-men, surly and grim
Mocking the lilt of the conquerors' hymn.
Sonnet XX: Oh! I Could Toil For Thee
© Mary Darby Robinson
Oh! I could toil for thee o'er burning plains;
Could smile at poverty's disastrous blow;
With thee, could wander 'midst a world of snow,
Where one long night o'er frozen Scythia reigns.
