Great poems
/ page 8 of 549 /
Astrophel and Stella: 1
© Sir Philip Sidney
Loving in truth, and faine in verse my loue to show,That she (deare she) might take some pleasure of my paine:Pleasure might cause her reade, reading might make her know,Knowledge might pittie winne, and pittie grace obtaine,I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertaine:Oft turning others leaues, to see if thence would flowSome fresh and fruitfull showers vpon my sunne-burn'd braine
Shakespeare's Sonnets: What potions have I drunk of siren tears
© William Shakespeare
What potions have I drunk of siren tearsDistill'd from limbecks foul as hell within,Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,Still losing when I saw my self to win?What wretched errors hath my heart committedWhil'st it hath thought it self so blessèd never?How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fittedIn the distraction of this madding fever?O benefit of ill, now I find trueThat better is by evil still made better,And ruin'd love when it is built anewGrows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Wer't ought to me I bore the canopy
© William Shakespeare
Wer't ought to me I bore the canopy,With my extern the outward honoring,Or laid great bases for eternity,Which proves more short than waste or ruining?Have I not seen dwellers on form and favourLose all and more by paying too much rentFor compound sweet, forgoing simple savour,Pitiful thrivers in their gazing spent?No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,And take thou my oblation, poor but free,Which is not mixt with seconds, knows no art,But mutual render, only me for thee
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse
© William Shakespeare
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,Bound for the prize of (all too precious) you,That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write,Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?No, neither he, nor his compeers by nightGiving him aid, my verse astonishèd
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
© William Shakespeare
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spendUpon thy self thy beauty's legacy?Nature's bequest gives nothing but doth lend,And being frank she lends to those are free:Then beauteous niggard, why dost thou abuseThe bounteous largess giv'n thee to give?Profitless usurer, why dost thou useSo great a sum of sums yet can'st not live?For having traffic with thy self alone,Thou of thy self thy sweet self dost deceive;Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,What acceptable audit can'st thou leave? Thy unus'd beauty must be tomb'd with thee, Which usèd lives th' executor to be
Dream Song 115: Her properties, like her of course and frisky and new
© John Berryman
Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new:
a stale cake sold to kids, a 7-foot weed
inside in the Great Neck night,
a record ('great'), her work all over as u-
sual rejected. She odd in a bakery.
The owner stand beside her
Dream Song 11: His mother goes. The mother comes and goes
© John Berryman
His mother goes. The mother comes & goes.
Chen Lung's too came, came and crampt & then
that dragoner's mother was gone.
It seem we don't have no good bed to lie on,
forever. While he drawing his first breath,
while skinning his knees,
Shakespeare's Sonnets: That thou are blam'd shall not be thy defect
© William Shakespeare
That thou are blam'd shall not be thy defect,For slander's mark was ever yet the fair,The ornament of beauty is suspect,A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all
© William Shakespeare
Take all my loves, my love, yea take them all,What hast thou then more than thou had'st before?No love, my love, that thou may'st true love call;All mine was thine before thou had'st this more
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Or whether doth my mind being crown'd with you
© William Shakespeare
Or whether doth my mind being crown'd with youDrink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?Or whether shall I say mine eye saith trueAnd that your love taught it this alchemy?To make of monsters, and things indigest,Such cherubins as your sweet self resemble,Creating every bad a perfect bestAs fast as objects to his beams assemble?Oh, 'tis the first, 'tis flatt'ry in my seeing,And my great mind most kingly drinks it up,Mine eye well knows what with his gust is greeing,And to his pallate doth prepare the cup
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage
© William Shakespeare
Lord of my love, to whom in vassalageThy merit hath my duty strongly knit,To thee I send this written ambassageTo witness duty, not to shew my wit
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Let those who are in favour with their stars
© William Shakespeare
Let those who are in favour with their starsOf public honour and proud titles boast,Whil'st I whom fortune of such triumph barsUnlook't for joy in that I honour most;Great princes' favorites their fair leaves spreadBut as the marigold at the sun's eye,And in them-selves their pride lies burièd,For at a frown they in their glory die
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Is it thy will thy image should keep op'n
© William Shakespeare
Is it thy will thy image should keep op'nMy heavy eyelids to the weary night?Dost thou desire my slumbers should be brok'n,While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from theeSo far from home into my deeds to pry,To find out shames and idle hours in me,The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?O no, thy love, though much, is not so great,It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,To play the watch-man ever for thy sake
Shakespeare's Sonnets: If thy soul check thee that I come so near
© William Shakespeare
If thy soul check thee that I come so near,Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Will;And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there
Shakespeare's Sonnets: How careful was I when I took my way
© William Shakespeare
How careful was I, when I took my way,Each trifle under truest bars to thrustThat to my use it might un-usèd stayFrom hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust;But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief,Thou best of dearest, and mine only care,Art left the prey of every vulgar thief
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing
© William Shakespeare
Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing,And like enough thou know'st thy estimate
Richard II (excerpts): Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand
© William Shakespeare
Oh, who can hold a fire in his handBy thinking on the frosty Caucasus?Or cloy the hungry edge of appetiteBy bare imagination of a feast?Or wallow naked in December snowBy thinking on fantastic summer's heat?Oh no, the apprehension of the goodGives but the greater feeling to the worse;Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle moreThan when it bites but lanceth not the sore
Hamlet (excerpts): To be or not to be, that is the question
© William Shakespeare
To be or not to be, that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous Fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troublesAnd by opposing end them
Shakespeare's Sonnets: Accuse me thus, that I have scanted all
© William Shakespeare
Accuse me thus, that I have scanted allWherein I should your great deserts repay,Forgot upon your dearest love to callWhereto all bonds do tie me day by day,That I have frequent been with unknown mindsAnd giv'n to time your own dear purchas'd right,That I have hoisted sail to all the windsWhich should transport me farthest from your sight
Pro Patria
© Seaman Owen
England, in this great fight to which you go Because, where Honour calls you, go you must,Be glad, whatever comes, at least to know You have your quarrel just.
