All Poems
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Brahma No Piensa...
© Amado Ruiz de Nervo
Brahma no piensa: pensar limita.
Brahma no es bueno ni malo, pues
las cualidades en su infinita
sustancia huelgan. Brahma es lo que es.
Obscur Et Fronce
© Arthur Rimbaud
Dark, wrinkled as a purple pink,
It breathes, it nestles in that bed of moss,
Prythee, sing something sweet to me
© Theocritus
Prythee, sing something sweet to me--you that can play
First and second at once. Then I too will essay
To croak on the pipes: and yon lad shall salute
Our ears with a melody breathed through his flute.
In the cave by the green oak our watch we will keep,
And goatish old Pan we'll defraud of his sleep.
Lob Der Faulheit
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Faulheit, itzo will ich dir
Auch ein kleines Loblied bringen.
O--wie--sau--er--wird es mir,--
Dich--nach Wuerden--zu besingen!
Doch, ich will mein Bestes tun,
Nach der Arbeit ist gut ruhn.
Year After Year: A Love Song.
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
YEAR after year the cowslips fill the meadow,
Year after year the skylarks thrill the air,
Year after year, in sunshine or in shadow,
Rolls the world round, love, and finds us as we were.
In Vita Minerva
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
VEX not the Muse with idle prayers,--
She will not hear thy call;
She steals upon thee unawares,
Or seeks thee not at all.
The City of Golf
© Robert Fuller Murray
Would you like to see a city given over,
Soul and body, to a tyrannising game?
If you would, there's little need to be a rover,
For St. Andrews is the abject city's name.
Commanders Of The Faithful
© William Makepeace Thackeray
The Pope he is a happy man,
His Palace is the Vatican,
And there he sits and drains his can:
The Pope he is a happy man.
I often say when I'm at home,
I'd like to be the Pope of Rome.
The Ghost of Goshen
© Anonymous
Through Goshen Hollow, where hemlocks grow,
Where rushing rills, with flash and flow,
Are over the rough rocks falling;
Where fox, where bear, and catamount hide,
By The Grave
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THIS is the place--I pray thee, friend,
Leave me alone with that dread grief,
Whose raven wings o'erarch the grave,
Closed on a life how sad and brief!
Our Saviours Boyhood
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
With what a flood of wondrous thoughts
Each Christian breast must swell
When, wandering back through ages past,
With simple faith they dwell
On quiet Nazareths sacred sod,
Where the Child Saviours footsteps trod.
First Sight of The Sea
© George MacDonald
I do remember how, when very young,
I saw the great sea first, and heard its swell
The Flowers
© Aldous Huxley
Day after day,
At spring's return,
I watch my flowers, how they burn
Their lives away.
Convention
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
The snow is lying very deep.
My house is sheltered from the blast.
I hear each muffled step outside,
I hear each voice go past.
The Lost Embassy
© Edith Nesbit
THE lilies lean to the white, white rose,
The sweet limes send to the blossomed trees,
Soft kisses borne by the golden bees--
And all the world is alive, awake,
And glad to the heart for the summer's sake.
Rain
© Emile Verhaeren
Rain, with its many wrinkles, the long rain
With its grey nails, and with its watery mane;
The long rain of these lands of long ago,
The rain, eternal in its torpid flow!
Sonnet L.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
FROM THE NOVEL OF CELESTINA.
FAREWELL, ye lawns!--by fond remembrance blest,
As witnesses of gay unclouded hours;
Where, to maternal friendships' bosom prest,
Green River
© William Cullen Bryant
When breezes are soft and skies are fair,
I steal an hour from study and care,
And hie me away to the woodland scene,
Where wanders the stream with waters of green,
A Kentish Garden
© Edith Nesbit
THERE is a grey-walled garden, far away
From noise and smoke of cities, where the hours
Pass with soft wings among the happy flowers,
And lovely leisure blossoms every day.
