Poems begining by E

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77

Epiphany

© Heber Reginald

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning! Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid!Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Emily Brontë

© Louise Imogen Guiney

What sacramental hurt that bringsThe terror of the truth of thingsHad changed thee? Secret be it yet

Extinction

© Greene Richard

Motion within motion,Deep movement in the darkest waters:It is the primal wit in the sea's heart,This creature that journeys out its yearsAnd propagates its simple appetitesAt the ocean's floor

First-born and final relic of the night,I dwell aloof in dim immensity;The grey sky sparkles with my fairy light;I mix among the dancers of the sea;Yet stoop not from the throne I must retainHigh o'er the silver sources of the rain

Epithalamion

© Flecker James Elroy

Smile then, children, hand in handBright and white as the summer snow,Or that young King of the Grecian land,Who smiled on Thetis, long ago, --So long ago when, heart aflame,The grave and gentle Peleus cameTo the shore where the halcyon fliesTo wed the maiden of his devotion,The dancing lady with sky-blue eyes,Thetis, the darling of Paradise,The daughter of old Ocean

Epigram

© Ebenezer Elliott

Companionship in toil or sorrow Makes every man a brother:Till we have work'd or wept together We do not know each other.

Endimion and Phoebe

© Michael Drayton

In Ionia whence sprang old poets' fame,From whom that sea did first derive her name,The blessed bed whereon the Muses lay,Beauty of Greece, the pride of Asia,Whence Archelaus, whom times historify,First unto Athens brought philosophy:In this fair region on a goodly plain,Stretching her bounds unto the bord'ring main,The mountain Latmus overlooks the sea,Smiling to see the ocean billows play:Latmus, where young Endymion used to keepHis fairest flock of silver-fleeced sheep,To whom Silvanus often would resort,At barley-brake to see the Satyrs sport;And when rude Pan his tabret list to sound,To see the fair Nymphs foot it in a round,Under the trees which on this mountain grew,As yet the like Arabia never knew;For all the pleasures Nature could deviseWithin this plot she did imparadise;And great Diana of her special graceWith vestal rites had hallowed all the place

Epitaph on Himself

© John Donne

To the Countess of Bedford

Exclusion

© Emily Dickinson

The soul selects her own society,Then shuts the door;On her divine majorityObtrude no more.

Epiphanie

© José Maria de Heredia

Donc, Balthazar, Melchior et Gaspar, les Rois Mages,Chargés de nefs d'argent, de vermeil et d'émauxEt suivis d'un très long cortège de chameaux,S'avancent, tels qu'ils sont dans les vieilles images

De l'Orient lointain, ils portent leurs hommagesAux pieds du fils de Dieu né pour guérir les mauxQue souffrent ici-bas l'homme et les animaux;Un page noir soutient leurs robes à ramages

Extinction: The Airman's Prayer

© Davey Ernest Raymond

Almighty and all present power,Short is the prayer I make to thee;I do not ask in battle hourFor any shield to cover me.

Exile

© Clarke George Elliott

for Kwame Dawes

Everything Is Free

© Clarke George Elliott

Wipe away tears,Set free your fears:Everything is free.Only the lonelyNeed much money:Everything is free.

Elegy over a Tomb

© Edward Herbert

Must I then see, alas, eternal night Sitting upon those fairest eyes,And closing all those beams, which once did rise So radiant and brightThat light and heat in them to us did prove Knowledge and love?

Oh, if you did delight no more to stay Upon this low and earthly stage,But rather chose an endless heritage, Tell us at least, we pray,Where all the beauties that those ashes ow'd Are now bestow'd

English Bards and Scotch Reviewers

...

Epistle to J. Lapraik

© Robert Burns

...

Each day I see the long ships coming into port

Each day I see the long ships coming into portand the people crowding to their rail, glad of the shore:because to have been alone with the sea and not to have knownof anything happening in any crowded way,and to have heard no other voice than the crooning sea'shas charmed away the old rancours, and the great windshave search'd and swept their hearts of the old irksome thoughts:so, to their freshen'd gaze, each land smiles a good home

Europe: A Prophecy

The nameless shadowy female rose from out the breast of Orc,Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon;And thus her voice arose:

Eternal Time, that Wastest Without Waste

© Anonymous

Eternal Time, that wastest without waste, That art and art not, diest, and livest still;Most slow of all, and yet of greatest haste; Both ill and good, and neither good nor ill: How can I justly praise thee, or dispraise? Dark are thy nights, but bright and clear thy days