Poems begining by D
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De Te
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
A burning glass of burnished brass,
The calm sea caught the noontide rays,
De Papineau Gun
© William Henry Drummond
Bon jour, M'sieu'--you want to know
'Bout dat ole gun--w'at good she's for?
W'y! Jean Bateese Bruneau--mon pere,
Fight wit' dat gun on Pap'neau War!
Down At The Docks
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
DOWN at the docks--when the smoke clouds lie,
Wind-ript and red, on an angry sky--
Denial
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WE look with scorn on Peter's thrice-told lie;
Boldly we say, "Good brother! you nor I,
So near the sacred Lord, the Christ, indeed,
Had dared His name and marvellous grace deny."
Daphne
© George Meredith
Musing on the fate of Daphne,
Many feelings urged my breast,
For the God so keen desiring,
And the Nymph so deep distrest.
Dingley And Brent
© Jonathan Swift
Dingley and Brent,
Wherever they went,
Ne'er minded a word that was spoken;
Whatever was said,
They ne'er troubled their head,
But laugh'd at their own silly joking.
Daedalus in Sicily
© Joseph Brodsky
All his life he was building something, inventing something.
Now, for a Cretan queen, an artificial heifer,
Drink Deep
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
Never twice in the world you find,
A lad whose heart is the gold you spend,
Daniel Henry Deniehy
© Henry Kendall
TAKE the harp, but very softly for our brother touch the strings:
Wind and wood shall help to wail him, waves and mournful mountain-springs.
Dear Old London
© Eugene Field
When I was broke in London in the fall of '89,
I chanced to spy in Oxford Street this tantalizing sign,
"A Splendid Horace cheap for Cash!" Of course I had to look
Upon the vaunted bargain, and it was a noble book!
Definition of Poetry
© Boris Pasternak
It's a whistle blown ripe in a trice,
It's the cracking of ice in a gale,
It's a night that turns green leaves to ice,
It's a duel of two nightingales.
Dreams
© Emma Lazarus
A DREAM of lilies: all the blooming earth,
A garden full of fairies and of flowers;
Its only music the glad cry of mirth,
While the warm sun weaves golden-tissued hours;
De Bell Of St. Michel
© William Henry Drummond
Go 'way, go 'way, don't ring no more, ole bell of Saint Michel,
For if you do, I can't stay here, you know dat very well,
No matter how I close ma ear, I can't shut out de soun',
It rise so high 'bove all de noise of dis beeg Yankee town.
Dead Love
© Sara Teasdale
God let me listen to your voice,
And look upon you for a space
And then he took your voice away,
And dropped a veil before your face.
