Pet poems
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The Shepherd Piping To The Fishes
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Shepherd seeking with his Lass
To shun the Heat of Day;
Was seated on the shadow'd Grass,
Near which a flowing Stream did pass,
And Fish within it play.
An Armour of proofe, brought from The Tower of Dauid, to fight agaynst Spannyardes
© Roger Cotton
When God of hosts in eighty eight had brought,
an host of men, our Countrey to annoy:
in that distresse the Lord by vs was sought,
whereby our woes were turned then to ioy.
But yet full true to vs may this be sayde,
in your distresse, you onely seeke my ayde.
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."
To A Friend Who Sent Me A Box Of Violets
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Nay, more than violets
These thoughts of thine, friend!
Ecrit en 1827
© Victor Marie Hugo
Je suis triste quand je vois l'homme.
Le vrai décroît dans les esprits.
L'ombre qui jadis noya Rome
Commence à submerger Paris.
, for String Quartet by Amy Lowell">Stravinsky's Three Pieces "Grotesques", for String Quartet
© Amy Lowell
First Movement
Thin-voiced, nasal pipes
Palinodia
© Charles Kingsley
Ye mountains, on whose torrent-furrowed slopes,
And bare and silent brows uplift to heaven,
I envied oft the soul which fills your wastes
Of pure and stern sublime, and still expanse
Unbroken by the petty incidents
Of noisy life: Oh hear me once again!
Agnes
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE KNIGHT
The tale I tell is gospel true,
As all the bookmen know,
And pilgrims who have strayed to view
The wrecks still left to show.
Paradiso (English)
© Dante Alighieri
The glory of Him who moveth everything
Doth penetrate the universe, and shine
In one part more and in another less.
The Spagnoletto. Act III
© Emma Lazarus
RIBERA (laying aside his brush).
So! I am weary. Luca, what 's o'clock?
Satan Absolved
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
We have no heart to serve without instructions new.
Thy Beauty Fades
© Jones Very
Thy beauty fades and with it too my love,
For 'twas the self-same stalk that bore its flower;
Petite Ste. Rosalie
© Susie Frances Harrison
FATHER Couture loves a fricassee,
Served with a sip of home-made wine,
He is the Curé, so jolly and free,
Rain by Peter Everwine : American Life in Poetry #278 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Peter Everwine is a California poet whose work I have admired for almost as long as I have been writing. Here he beautifully captures a quiet moment of reflection.
Rain
Toward evening, as the light failed
A mademoiselle Louise B.
© Victor Marie Hugo
Ô vous l'âme profonde ! ô vous la sainte lyre !
Vous souvient-il des temps d'extase et de délire,
Et des jeux triomphants,
Et du soir qui tombait des collines prochaines ?
Vous souvient-il des jours ? Vous souvient-il des chênes
Et des petits enfants ?
The Independent Bee
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Her Majesty wore an angry frown,
In fact, her Majesty's foot was down -
Her Majesty sulked - declined to sup -
In short, her Majesty's back was up.
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.
Her foot was down and her back was up!
Al Aaraaf: Part 1
© Edgar Allan Poe
PART I
O! nothing earthly save the ray
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,
As in those gardens where the day
The Fishermen
© Emile Verhaeren
The spot is flaked with mist, that fills,
Thickening into rolls more dank,
The thresholds and the window-sills,
And smokes on every bank.
