All Poems
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To The River Arve
© William Cullen Bryant
Not from the sands or cloven rocks,
Thou rapid Arve! thy waters flow;
Avitor
© Francis Bret Harte
What was it filled my youthful dreams,
In place of Greek or Latin themes,
Or beauty's wild, bewildering beams?
Avitor!
Matthew
© William Wordsworth
IF Nature, for a favourite child,
In thee hath tempered so her clay,
That every hour thy heart runs wild,
Yet never once doth go astray,
Rondel - II
© Sir Henry Newbolt
(from the French of Wenceslas, Duke of Brabant and Luxembourg, who died in 1384.)
Long ago to thee I gave
Body, soul, and all I have---
Nothing in the world I keep:
Stray Birds 61 - 70
© Rabindranath Tagore
61
TAKE my wine in my own cup, friend.
It loses its wreath of foam
when poured into that of others.
Cantus peregrinorum.
© Thomas Hoccleve
Honowred be thu, blissed lord on hye, That of the blisful maydë were I-bore,That with thi deth us boughtist myght[i]ly:Thin ownë flesch and blood, þou gaue us fore,And for us suffred peynës wonder sore, Bothe foot and hand [i]nayled to the rode,And bledest alle thin veray hert[es] bloode!
Honowred be thu, fadir souereigne, That vowchedsaff suche raunsom [us] to sendeThin ownë lovëd sone to suffre peyne,Oure mysease & myschief [for] to amende!Thu holigost, þat art withowt[en] ende, With fadier & sone, one god in trinite,ffor euere honured be thi maieste!
The Wide Ocean
© Pablo Neruda
Only a salt kiss remains of the drowned arm,
that lifts a spray: a humid scent,
of the damp flower, is left,
from the bodies of men. Your energies
form, in a trickle that is not spent,
form, in retreat into silence.
Have The Lily
© Eli Siegel
It is a world of space and fritters,
Somehow with us all day long;
A world mad of softs and bitters,
With angles in a pretty song.
The Wild Hunt
© Johannes Carsten Hauch
When they thought that Denmark's king
Soundly in the graveyard slumbered,
Words incredible, unnumbered,
Through the land crept whispering.
The Apple Tree
© Edgar Albert Guest
When an apple tree is ready
for the world to come and eat,
There isn't any structure
in the land that's "got it beat."
Love Sonnet XLII
© Zora Bernice May Cross
And then to counterbalance what you give
Thus all unwittingly, I smile or frown,
Am thoughtful, mirthful, grave or sunny-eyed
To meet your mood and help you best to live.
In me, all women to your wish bow down.
In you, all men at my desire abide.
Sand Martins
© Jean Ingelow
I passed an inland-cliff precipitate;
From tiny caves peeped many a soot-black poll;
In each a mother-martin sat elate,
And of the news delivered her small soul.
I Was Still A Child
© Margaret Widdemer
I WAS still a child
Till I came to you,
Child-eyes, child-heart,
Child-lips all too true;
The Panama Canal
© Edgar Albert Guest
ABOVE it flies the flag we love,
Within it is the blood we gave;
Italy : 31. A Funeral
© Samuel Rogers
'Whence this delay?' "Along the crowded street
A Funeral comes, and with unusual pomp."
So I withdrew a little, and stood still,
While it went by. 'She died as she deserved,'
"No, I'm not Byron: I am, yet,"
© Mikhail Lermontov
I am not Byron--yet I am
One fore-elected, yet one more
Unknown, world-hunted wanderer,
A Russian in my mood and mind.
The Three Sorts of Friends (fragment)
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Though friendships differ endless in degree,
The sorts, methinks, may be reduced to three.
Ac quaintance many, and Con quaintance few;
But for In quaintance I know only two--
The friend I've mourned with, and the maid I woo!
