All Poems
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Elegy on the Death of Lady Middleton
© Mary Darby Robinson
THE knell of death, that on the twilight gale,
Swells its deep murmur to the pensive ear;
In awful sounds repeats a mournful tale,
And claims the tribute of a tender tear.
To Mrs. Dulaney
© Frances Anne Kemble
What was thine errand here?
Thy beauty was more exquisite than aught
Edmund's Wedding
© Mary Darby Robinson
By the side of the brook, where the willow is waving
Why sits the wan Youth, in his wedding-suit gay!
Now sighing so deeply, now frantickly raving
Beneath the pale light of the moon's sickly ray.
Winds Of Autumn
© Saigyo
Even in a person
most times indifferent
to things around him
they waken feelings
the first winds of autumn
Echo to Him Who Complains
© Mary Darby Robinson
O FLY thee from the shades of night,
Where the loud tempests yelling rise;
Where horrror wings her sullen flight
Beneath the bleak and lurid skies.
Deborah's Parrot, a Village Tale
© Mary Darby Robinson
Thus, SLANDER turns against its maker;
And if this little Story reaches
A SPINSTER, who her PARROT teaches,
Let her a better task pursue,
And here, the certain VENGEANCE view
Which surely will, in TIME, O'ERTAKE HER.
The Can-Can At Valentinos
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE first, a mare; the second, 'twixt bowwow
And pussycat, a cross; the third, a beast
Cupid Sleeping
© Mary Darby Robinson
[Inscribed to Her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire.]
CLOSE in a woodbine's tangled shade,
The BLOOMING GOD asleep was laid;
His brows with mossy roses crown'd;
Nightmare
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The silver and violet leopard of the night
Spotted with stars and smooth with silence sprang;
And though three doors stood open, the end of light
Closed like a trap; and stillness was a clang.
Canzonet
© Mary Darby Robinson
SLOW the limpid currents twining,
Brawl along the lonely dell,
'Till in one wild stream combining,
Nought its rapid course can quell;
Epitaph For Joseph Blackett, Late Poet And Shoemaker
© George Gordon Byron
Stranger! behold, interr'd together,
The souls of learning and of leather.
Poor Joe is gone, but left his all:
You'll find his relics in a stall.
All Alone
© Mary Darby Robinson
Ah! wherefore by the Church-yard side,
Poor little LORN ONE, dost thou stray?
Thy wavy locks but thinly hide
The tears that dim thy blue-eye's ray;
And wherefore dost thou sigh, and moan,
And weep, that thou art left alone?
Ainsi Va le Monde
© Mary Darby Robinson
While motley mumm'ry holds her tinsel reign,
SHAKSPERE might write, and GARRICK act in vain:
True Wit recedes, when blushing Reason views
This spurious offspring of the banish'd Muse.
To Harriet -- It Is Not Blasphemy To Hope That Heaven
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
It is not blasphemy to hope that Heaven
More perfectly will give those nameless joys
Which throb within the pulses of the blood
And sweeten all that bitterness which Earth
Absence
© Mary Darby Robinson
WHEN from the craggy mountain's pathless steep,
Whose flinty brow hangs o'er the raging sea,
My wand'ring eye beholds the foamy deep,
I mark the restless surgeand think of THEE.
Sonnet XIV. The Telegraph And Telephone.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
FLEETER than time, across the Continent,
Through unsunned ocean depths, from beach to beach,
Around the rolling globe Thought's couriers reach.
The new-tuned earth like some vast instrument
Loud Music
© Stephen Dobyns
My stepdaughter and I circle round and round.
You see, I like the music loud, the speakers
throbbing, jam-packing the room with sound whether
Bach or rock and roll, the volume cranked up so
Parisian Dream
© Charles Baudelaire
Á Constantine Guys
I
The vague and distant image
of this landscape, so terrifying,
At the End
© Marilyn L. Taylor
In another time, a linen winding sheet
would already have been drawn
about her, the funeral drums by now
