All Poems
/ page 2481 of 3210 /Genius And Love
© Frances Anne Kemble
Genius and Love together stood
At break of day beside clear fountains,
The Gods! The Gods!
© David Herbert Lawrence
People were bathing and posturing themselves on the beach,
and all was dreary, great robot limbs, robot breasts,
robot voices, robot even the gay umbrellas.
Confessions
© Kathleen Raine
Wanting to know all
I overlooked each particle
Containing the whole
Unknowable.
Conundrums
© David Herbert Lawrence
Tell me a word
that you've often heard,
yet it makes you squint
when you see it in print!
Limerick: There was an Old Man of the Wrekin
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man of the Wrekin
Whose shoes made a horrible creaking
But they said, 'Tell us whether,
Your shoes are of leather,
Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?'
Discord in Childhood
© David Herbert Lawrence
Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,
And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ships
Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously.
A Sonnet dedicated to Sir George Gipps
© Charles Harpur
My country! I am sore at heart for thee!
An in mine ear, like a storm-heralding breeze,
Willy Wet-Leg
© David Herbert Lawrence
I cant stand Willy Wet-Leg,
Cant stand him at any price.
Hes resigned, and when you hit him
he lets you hit him twice.
Dreams Old
© David Herbert Lawrence
I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill
Where the sunlight soaks in the stone: the afternoon
Is full of dreams, my love, the boys are all still
In a wistful dream of Lorna Doone.
Hour Before Sleep
© John Hall Wheelock
Evening- and I, in the hour before sleep,
Lean out once more, and stare
Mating
© David Herbert Lawrence
Round clouds roll in the arms of the wind,
The round earth rolls in a clasp of blue sky,
And see, where the budding hazels are thinned,
The wild anemones lie
In undulating shivers beneath the wind.
New Year's Eve
© David Herbert Lawrence
There are only two things now,
The great black night scooped out
And this fireglow.
Study
© David Herbert Lawrence
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird
Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel,
Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads back,
Stirred by an impetuous wind. Some waysll
All be sweet with white and blue violet.
(Hush now, hush. Where am I?Biuret)
To Lesbia
© George Gordon Byron
Lesbia! since far from you I've ranged,
Our souls with fond affection glow not;
You say 'tis I, not you, have changed,
I'd tell you why,--but yet I know not.
Troth with the Dead
© David Herbert Lawrence
The moon is broken in twain, and half a moon
Before me lies on the still, pale floor of the sky;
The other half of the broken coin of troth
Is buried away in the dark, where the still dead lie.
The Seekers
© John Masefield
Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth nor blessed abode,
But the hope of the City of God at the other end of the road.
Craving for Spring
© David Herbert Lawrence
I trample on the snowdrops, it gives me pleasure to tread down the jonquils,
to destroy the chill Lent lilies;
for I am sick of them, their faint-bloodedness,
slow-blooded, icy-fleshed, portentous.
Tortoise Gallantry
© David Herbert Lawrence
And so he strains beneath her housey wall,
And catches her trouser-legs in his beak
Suddenly, or her skinny limb,
And strange and grimly drags at her
Like a dog,
Only agelessly silent, with a reptile's awful persistency.