Romantic poems
/ page 8 of 14 /
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
75. Halloween
© Robert Burns
UPON that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans 2 dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Bronx
© Joseph Rodman Drake
I SAT me down upon a green bank-side,
Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river,
Whose waters seemed unwillingly to glide,
Like parting friends who linger while they sever;
Enforced to go, yet seeming still unready,
Backward they wind their way in many a wistful eddy.
The Ghost - Book II
© Charles Churchill
A sacred standard rule we find,
By poets held time out of mind,
Rumbo Al Olvido
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
¡Oh pobres almas nuestras
que perdieron el nido
y que van arrastradas
en la falsa corriente
del olvido!
owl power
© Rg Gregory
the bird was cherished by minerva
hebrews loathed it as unclean
buddhists treasure its seclusion
elsewhere night-hag evil omen
Death & Fame
© Allen Ginsberg
When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
Three Movements
© William Butler Yeats
Shakespearean fish swam the sea, far away from land;
Romantic fish swam in nets coming to the hand;
What are all those fish that lie gasping on the strand?
September 1913
© William Butler Yeats
What need you, being come to sense,
But fumble in a greasy till
And add the halfpence to the pence
And prayer to shivering prayer, until
Unclean
© Brooks Haxton
I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am
like an owl of the desert. I watch, and am
as a sparrow alone upon the housetop.
Psalm 102
The Tongues We Speak
© Patricia Goedicke
I have arrived here after taking many steps
Over the kitchen floors of friends and through their lives.
The Erotic Philosophers
© John Betjeman
It’s a spring morning; sun pours in the window
As I sit here drinking coffee, reading Augustine.
Epistles to Several Persons: Epistle II: To a Lady on the Characters of Women
© Alexander Pope
Nothing so true as what you once let fall,
"Most Women have no Characters at all."
Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear,
And best distinguish'd by black, brown, or fair.
Sonnet XXX. To The River Arun
© Charlotte Turner Smith
BE the proud Thames of trade the busy mart!
Arun! to thee will other praise belong;
Dear to the lover's and the mourner's heart,
And ever sacred to the sons of song!
Pictures From Theocritus
© William Lisle Bowles
Goat-herd, how sweet above the lucid spring
The high pines wave with breezy murmuring!
So sweet thy song, whose music might succeed
To the wild melodies of Pan's own reed.
A Salutation
© Louise Imogen Guiney
High-hearted Surrey! I do love your ways,
Venturous, frank, romantic, vehement,
Coole Park 1929
© William Butler Yeats
I MEDITATE upon a swallow's flight,
Upon a aged woman and her house,
