All Poems
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In David's "Child's Garden Of Verses"
© Sara Teasdale
The dearest child in all the world,
Should have the dearest songs,
And that is why this little book
To David-Boy belongs.
A Song : The Sparkling Eye
© William Cowper
The sparkling eye, the mantling cheek,
The polished front, the snowy neck,
How seldom we behold in one!
Glossy locks, and brow serene,
Venus' smiles, Diana's mien,
All meet in you, and you alone.
Song From The Spanish Of Iglesias
© William Cullen Bryant
Alexis calls me cruel;
The rifted crags that hold
The gathered ice of winter,
He says, are not more cold.
Shaoshan Revisited
© Mao Zedong
Like a dim dream recalled, I curse the long-fled past -
My native soil two and thirty years gone by.
Spring
© Samuel Johnson
Stern Winter now, by Spring repress'd
Forbears the long-continued strife;
And Nature, on her naked breast,
Delights to catch the gales of life.
The Prophecy of Samuel Sewall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Up and down the village streets
Strange are the forms my fancy meets,
He Loves And He Rides Away
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
'Twas in that island summer where
They spin the morning gossamer,
Auf, Auf! Die Rechte Zeit Ist Hier
© Martin Opitz
Auf, auf! Die rechte Zeit ist hier,
die Stunde wartet vor der Tür,
ihr Brüder, lasset uns erwachsen,
vergesst die Welt und ihre Sachen.
To be added
Summer Storm
© James Russell Lowell
But up the west, like a rock-shivered surge,
Climbs a great cloud edged with sun-whitened spray;
Huge whirls of foam boil toppling o'er its verge,
And falling still it seems, and yet it climbs alway.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 02
© William Langland
And is welcome whan he wile, and woneth with hem ofte.
Alle fledden for fere and flowen into hernes;
Save Mede the mayde na mo dorste abide.
Ac trewely to telle, she trembled for fere,
And ek wepte and wrong whan she was attached.
I must remember now
© Robert Nichols
I must remember now how once I woke
To find the harsh lamplight stream upon her bed,
Hounds!
© William Henry Ogilvie
There is music on disc and on wireless,
Band-music, dance-tunes for the tireless,
I Am The Only Being Whose Doom
© Emily Jane Brontë
I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born
The Beautiful Stranger
© John Clare
I cannot know what country owns thee now,
With France's forest lilies on thy brow.
"So again we triumph!"
© Anna Akhmatova
So again we triumph!
Again we do not come!
Our speeches silent,
Our words, dumb.
Mark Antony
© John Cleveland
Whenas the nightingale chanted her vespers,
And the wild forester couched on the ground,
Going To The Horse Flats
© Robinson Jeffers
Sweet was the clear
Chatter of the stream now that our talk was hushed; the flitting
water-ouzel returned to her stone;
A lovely snake, two delicate scarlet lines down the dark back,
swam through the pool. The flood-battered
Trees by the stream are more noble than cathedral-columns.
Grass From The Battle-Field
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Small sheaf
Of withered grass, that hast not yet revealed
Thy story, lo! I see thee once more green
And growing on the battle-field,
On that last day that ever thou didst grow!
