Women poems
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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXVI
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I lived with visions for my companyInstead of men and women, years ago,And found them gentle mates, nor thought to knowA sweeter music than they played to me
Kelly's Conversion
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Kelly the Rager half opened an eyeTo wink at the Army passing by,While his hot breath, thick with the taint of beer,Came forth from his lips in a drunken jeer
How Polly Paid for her Keep
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why, damme!You might as well ask if I know my own name!It's a wonder you never heard tell of old Sammy,Her father, my mate in the Crackenback claim.
The Demon Snow-shoes
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
The snow lies deep on hill and dale,In rocky gulch and grassy vale:The tiny, trickling, tumbling fallsAre frozen 'twixt their rocky wallsThat grey and brown look silent downUpon Kiandra's shrouded town
Brazil, January 1, 1502
© Elizabeth Bishop
Januaries, nature greets our eyesexactly as she must have greeted theirs:every square inch filling in with foliage--big leaves, little leaves, and giant leaves,blue, blue-green, and olive,with occasional lighter veins and edges,or a satin underleaf turned over;monster fernsin silver-gray relief,and flowers, too, like giant water liliesup in the air--up, rather, in the leaves--purple, yellow, two yellows, pink,rust red and greenish white;solid but airy; fresh as if just finishedand taken off the frame
An Ode
© Richard Barnfield
As it fell upon a dayIn the merry month of May,Sitting in a pleasant shadeWhich a grove of myrtles made,Beasts did leap and birds did sing,Trees did grow and plants did spring;Every thing did banish moan,Save the nightingale alone
The Rights of Women
© Anna Lætitia Barbauld
Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right!Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;O born to rule in partial Law's despite,Resume thy native empire o'er the breast!
Mademoiselle from Armentières
© Anonymous
VERSION ##1.2Mademoiselle from Armentières, Parley-voo?1.3Mademoiselle from Armentières,1.4She hasn't been kissed in forty years,1.5Hinky, dinky, parley-voo.
Clerk Saunders
© Anonymous
Whan bells war rung, an mass was sung, A wat a' man to bed were gone,Clark Sanders came to Margret's window, With mony a sad sigh and groan.
Ease. 1914
© Leon Gellert
The iron is hidden in forgetfulness.
A smoothness comes to men and lies on lands.
