All Poems
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To Eva Descending The Stair
© Sylvia Plath
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear;
The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
I Know All This When Gipsy Fiddles Cry
© Vachel Lindsay
Oh, sweating thieves, and hard-boiled scalawags,
That still will boast your pride until the doom,
Smashing every caste rule of the world,
Reaching at last your Hindu goal to smash
The caste rules of old India, and shout:
"Down with the Brahmins, let the Romany reign."
A celle que j'aime
© Nérée Beauchemin
Dans ta mémoire immortelle,
Comme dans le reposoir
D'une divine chapelle,
Pour celui qui t'est fidèle,
Garde l'amour et l'espoir.
Hey diddle diddle
© Roald Dahl
Hey diddle diddle
We're all on the fiddle
And never get up until noon.
We only take cash
Which we carefully stash
And we work by the light of the moon.
Third Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
I marked a rainbow in the north,
What time the wild autumnal sun
From his dark veil at noon looked forth,
As glorying in his course half done,
Flinging soft radiance far and wide
Over the dusky heaven and bleak hill-side.
Lost And Found
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
"Whither art thou gone, fair Una?
Una fair, the moon is gleaming;
An Artist Of The Beautiful
© John Greenleaf Whittier
GEORGE FULLER
Haunted of Beauty, like the marvellous youth
Dysthanatos
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
BY no dry death another king goes down
The way of kings. Yet may no free mans voice,
Peanut-Butter Sandwich
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.
Eclogue VII
© Virgil
Corydon.
"Libethrian Nymphs, who are my heart's delight,
Grant me, as doth my Codrus, so to sing-
Next to Apollo he- or if to this
We may not all attain, my tuneful pipe
Here on this sacred pine shall silent hang."
Sport In The Meadows
© John Clare
Maytime is to the meadows coming in,
And cowslip peeps have gotten eer so big,
Skin Diving
© William Matthews
The snorkel is the easiest woodwind.
Two notes in the chalumeau:
rising and falling.
Here is the skin of sleep,
the skin of reading, surfaces
Pu suan tzu
© Su Tung-po
A fragment moon hangs from the bare tung tree
The water clock runs out, all is still
Who sees the dim figure come and go alone
Misty, indistinct, the shadow of a lone wild goose?
In Praise Of Angling
© Sir Henry Wotton
Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares,
Anxious sighs, untimely tears,
Dialogues
© Pietro Aretino
ANTONIA What did you see? Tell me, please!
NANNA In the cell I saw four sisters, the General, and the three milky-white and ruby-red young friars, who were taking off the reverend fathers cassock and garbing him in a big velvet coat. Then hid his tonsure under a small golden skullcap, over which they placed a velvet cap ornamented with crystal droplets and surmounted by a white plume. Then, having buckled his sword at his side, the blissful General, to speak frankly, started strutting back and forth with the big-balled stride of a Bartolomeo Colleoni. In the meantime the sisters removed their habits and the friars took off their tunics. The latter put on the sisters` robes and the sisters that is, three of them put on the friars`. The fourth nun rolled herself up in Generals cassock, seated herself pontifically, and began to imitate a superior laying down the law for the convent.
Death's Subtle Ways
© James Shirley
Victorious men of earth, no more
Proclaim how wide your empires are;
Though you bind in every shore
And your triumphs reach as far
