The fish around her crowded, as they do
To the false light that treacherous fisher shew,
And all with as much ease might taken be,
As she at first took me;
For ne’er did light so clear
Among the waves appear,
Though every night the sun himself set there.
Why to mute fish shouldst thou thyself discover
And not to me, thy no less silent lover?
As some from men their buried gold commit
To ghosts, that have no use of it;
Half their rich treasures so
Maids bury; and for aught we know,
(Poor ignorants!) They’re mermaids all below.
The amorous waves would fain about her stay,
But still new amorous waves drive them away,
And with swift current to those joys they haste
That do as swiftly waste:
I laugh’d the wanton play to view;
But ‘t is, alas! at land so too,
And still old lovers yield the place to new.
Kiss her, and as you part, you amorous waves
(My happier rivals, and my fellow-slaves)
Point to your flowery banks, and to her shew
The good your bounties do;
Then tell her what your pride doth cost,
And how your use and beauty’s lost,
When rigorous winter binds you up with frost.
Tell her, her beauties and her youth, like thee,
Haste without stop to a devouring sea;
Where they will mix’d and undistinguish’d lie
With all the meanest things that die;
As in the ocean thou
No privilege dost know
Above th’ impurest streams that thither flow.
Tell her, kind flood! When this has made her sad,
Tell her there’s yet one remedy to be had;
Show her how thou, though long since past, dost find
Thyself yet still behind:
Marriage (say to her) will bring
About the self-same thing.
But she, fond maid, shuts and seals-up the spring.
A few random poems:
- A Minor Bird by Robert Frost
- Николай Заболоцкий – Весна в лесу
- Владимир Высоцкий – Заповедник
- Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all by William Shakespeare
- Rhyme by the Bog by Robby Charters
- Robert Burns: Up In The Morning Early:
- Aunt Dorothys Lecture
- last words to the moon by Raj Arumugam
- For The Anniversary Of My Death by W. S. Merwin
- Юлия Друнина – В семнадцать
- Down in the valley by Marcin Malek
- Manifesto for your smile and my songs by Vinko Kalinic
- The Song of the Shirt by Thomas Hood
- Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock by Robert Burns
- Ольга Седакова – Деревья, сильный ветер
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- To Sleep poem – John Keats poems
- To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent poem – John Keats poems
- To My Brothers poem – John Keats poems
- To My Brother George poem – John Keats poems
- To Mrs Reynolds’ Cat poem – John Keats poems
- To John Hamilton Reynolds poem – John Keats poems
- To Hope poem – John Keats poems
- To Homer poem – John Keats poems
- To Haydon poem – John Keats poems
- To G.A.W. poem – John Keats poems
- To Fanny poem – John Keats poems
- To Byron poem – John Keats poems
- To Autumn poem – John Keats poems
- To Ailsa Rock poem – John Keats poems
- To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown poem – John Keats poems
- To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses poem – John Keats poems
- To poem – John Keats poems
- This Living Hand poem – John Keats poems
- Think Of It Not, Sweet One poem – John Keats poems
- The Human Seasons poem – John Keats poems
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.