All Poems
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La Muse Malade (The Sick Muse)
© Charles Baudelaire
Ma pauvre muse, hélas! qu'as-tu donc ce matin?
Tes yeux creux sont peuplés de visions nocturnes,
Et je vois tour à tour réfléchis sur ton teint
La folie et l'horreur, froides et taciturnes.
To A Wind-Flower
© Madison Julius Cawein
Teach me the secret of thy loveliness,
That, being made wise, I may aspire to be
As beautiful in thought, and so express
Immortal truths to earth's mortality;
Though to my soul ability be less
Than 'tis to thee, O sweet anemone.
Thalia
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I say it under the rose-
oh, thanks! -yes, under the laurel,
We part lovers, not foes;
we are not going to quarrel.
Gautama
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
All life, he taught, hath been, all life must be
Accursed! the gift of demons! All delight
Lies at the far-off goal of pulseless peace.
"Pray," sighed he, "that this breath of men shall cease;
Our hell is earth, our heaven eternal night;
Our only godhead vague Nonentity!"
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto III.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child!
In The Harbour: The Children's Crusade
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
O the simple, child-like trust!
O the faith that could believe
What the harnessed, iron-mailed
Knights of Christendom had failed,
By their prowess, to achieve,
They, the children, could and must!
Time and Again
© Rainer Maria Rilke
TIme and again, however well we know the landscape of love,
and the little church-yard with lamenting names,
and the frightfully silent ravine wherein all the others
end: time and again we go out two together,
under the old trees, lie down again and again
between the flowers, face to face with the sky.
In Wartime
© Stephan Stephansson
In Europe's reeking slaughter pen
They mince the flesh of murdered men
While swinish merchants, snout in trough
Drink all the bloody profits off!
ChurchDoor Should Still Stand Open
© Alfred Austin
Church-doors should still stand open, night and day,
Open to all who come for praise or prayer,
Under The April Moon
© Bliss William Carman
OH, well the world is dreaming
Under the April moon,
Her soul in love with beauty,
Her senses all a-swoon!
The Almighty Conqueror.
© Mather Byles
I.
Awake my Heart, awake my Tongue,
Sound each melodious String;
In num'rous Verse and lofty Song,
To thee, my GOD, I sing.
Sitting On The Shore
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
THE tide has ebbed away:
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant rocks,
Nor swayings amidst sea-weed false that mocks
The hues of gardens gay:
Paracelsus In Excelsis
© Ezra Pound
Being no longer human, why should I
Pretend humanity or don the frail attire?
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Spanish Jew's Tale; Azrael
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
King Solomon, before his palace gate
At evening, on the pavement tessellate
The Garden
© Margaret Widdemer
THERE were many flowers in my mother's garden,
Sword-leaved gladiolus, taller far than I,
Sticky-leaved petunias, pink and purple-flaring,
Velvet-painted pansies staring at the sky;
Trivia; or the Art of Walking the Streets of London: Book I.
© John Gay
Of the Implements for Walking the Streets,
and Signs of the Weather.
The Wife-Blessed
© James Whitcomb Riley
In youth he wrought, with eyes ablur,
Lorn-faced and long of hair--
In youth--in youth he painted her
A sister of the air--
Could clasp her not, but felt the stir
Of pinions everywhere.
