All Poems
/ page 2434 of 3210 /Youth and Love
© Amy Levy
What does youth know of love?
Little enough, I trow!
He plucks the myrtle for his brow,
For his forehead the rose.
Nay, but of love
It is not youth who knows.
Size circumscribesit has no room
© Emily Dickinson
Size circumscribesit has no room
For petty furniture
The Giant tolerates no Gnat
For Ease of Gianture
Maid Of Athens, Ere We Part
© George Gordon Byron
Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh give me back my heart!
Or, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now, and take the rest!
Hear my vow before I go,
Zoë mou, sas agapo!
Translated from Geibel
© Amy Levy
O say, thou wild, thou oft deceived heart,
What mean these noisy throbbings in my breast?
After thy long, unutterable woe
Wouldst thou not rest?
To Vernon Lee
© Amy Levy
On Bellosguardo, when the year was young,
We wandered, seeking for the daffodil
And dark anemone, whose purples fill
The peasant's plot, between the corn-shoots sprung.
X. On Dover Cliffs.
© William Lisle Bowles
ON these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Rear their o'er-shadowing heads, and at their feet
A cool fall night
© Matsuo Basho
At a hermitage:
A cool fall night;
getting dinner, we peeled
eggplants, cucumbers.
Wisdom
© George Frederick Cameron
Wisdom immortal from immortal Jove
Shadows more beauty with her virgin brows
Songs of the Winter Days
© George MacDonald
The sky has turned its heart away,
The earth its sorrow found;
The daisies turn from childhood's play,
And creep into the ground.
White Hairs
© Wang Wei
Once a tiny child now an old man.
White hairs to match the soft down.
How the heart gets hurt by life.
Beyond the Gateless Gates
Where craving ends.
To a Dead Poet
© Amy Levy
I knew not if to laugh or weep;
They sat and talked of you--
"'Twas here he sat; 'twas this he said!
'Twas that he used to do.
The Invective of Achilles
© George Meredith
[Iliad, B. I. V. 149]
"Heigh me! brazen of front, thou glutton for plunder, how can one,
The Village Garden
© Amy Levy
Here, where your garden fenced about and still is,
Here, where the unmoved summer air is sweet
With mixed delight of lavender and lilies,
Dreaming I linger in the noontide heat.
The Two Terrors
© Amy Levy
Which way she turn, my soul finds no relief,
My smitten soul may not be comforted;
Alternately she swings from grief to grief,
And, poised between them, sways from dread to dread.
For there she dreads because she knows; and here,
Because she knows not, only faints with fear.
Tit for Tat
© Walter de la Mare
Have you been catching fish, Tom Noddy?
Have you snared a weeping hare?
Have you whistled "No Nunny" and gunned a poor bunny,
Or blinded a bird of the air?