All Poems
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Alas Madam for Stealing of a Kiss
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
Alas, madam, for stealing of a kiss
Have I so much your mind there offended?
Have I then done so grievously amiss
That by no means it may be amended?
Queen And Clown.
© Robert Crawford
Cleopatra: Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, that kills and
pains not?
Clown: Truly I have him; but I would not be the party that should
desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal: those that do die of it
A Revocation
© Sir Thomas Wyatt
WHAT should I say?
--Since Faith is dead,
And Truth away
From you is fled?
Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture?
© Marina Tsvetaeva
Whence cometh such tender rapture?
Those curls--they are not the first ones
I've smoothened, and I've already
Known lips--that were darker than yours.
To Stella Visiting Me in My Sickness
© Jonathan Swift
Pallas, observing Stella's wit
Was more than for her sex was fit,
And that her beauty, soon or late,
Might breed confusion in the state,
To Mother
© Marina Tsvetaeva
In the old Strauss waltz for the first time
We had listened to your quiet call,
Since then all the living things are alien
And the knocking of the clock consoles.
The After-Glow
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
Suspicion's playful counterfeit
Begot your question strange:
The Window
© Marina Tsvetaeva
In the sweet, Atlantic
Breathing of spring
My curtain's like a butterfly,
Huge, fluttering
The Demon In Me
© Marina Tsvetaeva
The demon in me's not dead,
He's living, and well.
In the body as in a hold,
In the self as in a cell.
The Fairy Book
© Norman Rowland Gale
In summer, when the grass is thick, if Mother has the time,
She shows me with her pencil how a poet makes a rhyme,
And often she is sweet enough to choose a leafy nook,
Where I cuddle up so closely when she reads the Fairy-book.
Much Like Me
© Marina Tsvetaeva
Much like me, you make your way forward,
Walking with downturned eyes.
Well, I too kept mine lowered.
Passer-by, stop here, please.
The Northern Spring
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
WHEN the soft breath of Spring goes forth
Far o'er the mountains of the North,
How soon those wastes of dazzling snow
With life, and bloom, and beauty glow.
Little World
© Marina Tsvetaeva
Children - are staring of eyes so frightful,
Mischievous legs on a wooden floor,
Children - is sun in the gloomy motives,
Hypotheses' of happy sciences world.
Grey Hairs
© Marina Tsvetaeva
These are ashes of treasures:
Of hurt and loss.
These are ashes in face of which
Granite is dross.
The Trance of Time
© John Henry Newman
"Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum
Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque Acherontis avari!"
Girlfriend
© Marina Tsvetaeva
"I will not part! -- There is no end!" She clings and clings...
And in the breast -- the rise
Of threatening waters,
Of notes...Steadfast: like an immutable
Mystery: we will part!
"You may have other loves"
© Lesbia Harford
You may have other loves,
Red mouths to kiss.
Why should you lose
That loveliness for this?
During An Absence
© Hugo Williams
Now that she has left the room for a moment
to powder her nose,
we watch and wait, watch and wait,
for her to bring back the purpose into our lives.
Ailsie, My Bairn
© Eugene Field
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,-
Lie in my arms and dinna greit;
Long time been past syn I kenned you last,
But my harte been allwais the same, my swete.
