Women poems/ page 13 of 142 /
Within and Without: Part II: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Hm! ah! I see.
What kind of man is this Nembroni, nurse?
Hero And Leander: The First Sestiad
© Christopher Marlowe
On Hellespont, guilty of true-love's blood,
In view and opposite two cities stood,
As I Ebb'd With the Ocean of Life
© Walt Whitman
I perceive I have not really understood any thing, not a single
object, and that no man ever can,
Nature here in sight of the sea taking advantage of me to dart
upon me and sting me,
Because I have dared to open my mouth to sing at all.
Poet, Lover, Birdwatcher
© Nissim Ezekiel
To force the pace and never to be still
Is not the way of those who study birds
Or women. The best poets wait for words.
The hunt is not an exercise of will
Not Marble Nor The Gilded Monuments
© Archibald MacLeish
THE praisers of women in their proud and beautiful poems
Naming the grave mouth and the hair and the eyes
The Old Days - And The New
© Alice Guerin Crist
Mid wattle scents and sounds of Spring,
The old man, dreaming in his chair,
Is back where skylarks soar and sing
In sunshine, oer the hills of Clare.
Fifteen by Leslie Monsour: American Life in Poetry #38 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I'd guess that many women remember the risks and thrills of their first romantic encounters in much the same way California poet Leslie Monsour does in this poem.
Lamia. Part I
© John Keats
Upon a time, before the faery broods
Drove Nymph and Satyr from the prosperous woods,
'The Seabolt's Volunteers'
© Henry Lawson
They towed the Seabolt down the stream,
And through the harbours mouth;
She spread her wings and sailed away
To seek the sunny South.
© Arthur Symons
II. ISOTTA TO THE ROSE: RIMINI
The little country girl who plucks a rose
Goes barefoot through the sunlight to the sea,
And singing of Isotta as she goes.
from The Women At Point Sur
© Robinson Jeffers
Here were new idols again to praise him;
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
The Family Party
© Edgar Albert Guest
I SING the family party that once we used to know,
The old time family parties we gave so long ago,
Metamorphoses: Book The Third
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
© John Greenleaf Whittier
But over Akbar's brows the frown hung black,
And, turning to the eunuch at his back,
"Take them," he said, "and let the Jumna's waves
Hide both my shame and these accursed slaves!"
His loathly length the unsexed bondman bowed
"On my head be it!"
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XII - Aswa-Medha - (Sacrifice Of The Horse)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased
warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is
The Face Of Qana
© Nizar Qabbani
The face of Qana
Pale, like that of Jesus
and the sea breeze of April…
Rains of blood.. and tears..
Mother and Daughter- Sonnet Sequence
© Augusta Davies Webster
Oh goddess head! Oh innocent brave eyes!
Oh curved and parted lips where smiles are rare
And sweetness ever! Oh smooth shadowy hair
Gathered around the silence of her brow!
Child, I'd needs love thy beauty stranger-wise:
And oh the beauty of it, being thou!
Clarification To My Poetry-Readers
© Nizar Qabbani
And of me say the fools:
I entered the lodges of women
© Stephen Vincent Benet
David sang to his hook-nosed harp:
"The Lord God is a jealous God!
His violent vengeance is swift and sharp!
And the Lord is King above all gods!