Ballade Of Dead Ladies poem – Andrew Lang poems
Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells to-day. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream,–around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year’s snow? Where is wise Heloise, that […]
Ballade Of Cleopatra’s Needle poem – Andrew Lang poems
Ye giant shades of RA and TUM, Ye ghosts of gods Egyptian, If murmurs of our planet come To exiles in the precincts wan Where, fetish or Olympian, To help or harm no more ye list, Look down, if look ye may, and scan This monument in London mist! Behold, the hieroglyphs are […]
Ballade Of Blind Love poem – Andrew Lang poems
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget That ever they loved in their lives, they say; Only remember the fever and fret, And the pain of Love, that was all his pay; All the delight of him passes away From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met - Too late did […]
Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
We built a castle in the air, In summer weather, you and I, The wind and sun were in your hair, - Gold hair against a sapphire sky: When Autumn came, with leaves that fly Before the storm, across the plain, You fled from me, with scarce a sigh - My Love returns […]
Ballade Of Aucassin poem – Andrew Lang poems
Where smooth the southern waters run By rustling leagues of poplars grey, Beneath a veiled soft southern sun, We wandered out of yesterday, Went maying through that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are fragrant yet, And loitered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and Nicolette. The grass-grown paths are trod of none Where […]
Ballade Of Amoureuse poem – Andrew Lang poems
Not Jason nor Medea wise, I crave to see, nor win much lore, Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies; Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’er The wide world roamed from shore to shore; Nor, by St. James, Penelope, - Nor pure Lucrece, such wrong that bore: To see my Love suffices me! Virgil […]
Ballade Of His Books poem – Andrew Lang poems
Here stand my books, line upon line They reach the roof, and row by row, They speak of faded tastes of mine, And things I did, but do not, know: Old school books, useless long ago, Old Logics, where the spirit, railed in, Could scarcely answer “yes” or “no” - The many things […]
Ballade Of The Dream poem – Andrew Lang poems
Swift as sound of music fled When no more the organ sighs, Sped as all old days are sped, So your lips, love, and your eyes, So your gentle-voiced replies Mine one hour in sleep that seem, Rise and flit when slumber flies, Following darkness like a dream! Like the scent from roses […]
Ballade Of Dead Ladies poem – Andrew Lang poems
Nay, tell me now in what strange air The Roman Flora dwells to-day. Where Archippiada hides, and where Beautiful Thais has passed away? Whence answers Echo, afield, astray, By mere or stream,–around, below? Lovelier she than a woman of clay; Nay, but where is the last year’s snow? Where is wise Heloise, that […]
Ballade Of The Dead Cities poem – Andrew Lang poems
The dust of Carthage and the dust Of Babel on the desert wold, The loves of Corinth, and the lust, Orchomenos increased with gold; The town of Jason, over-bold, And Cherson, smitten in her prime - What are they but a dream half-told? Where are the cities of old time? In towns that […]
Ballade Of Cleopatra’s Needle poem – Andrew Lang poems
Ye giant shades of RA and TUM, Ye ghosts of gods Egyptian, If murmurs of our planet come To exiles in the precincts wan Where, fetish or Olympian, To help or harm no more ye list, Look down, if look ye may, and scan This monument in London mist! Behold, the hieroglyphs are […]
Ballade Of The Bookworm poem – Andrew Lang poems
Far in the Past I peer, and see A Child upon the Nursery floor, A Child with books upon his knee, Who asks, like Oliver, for more! The number of his years is IV, And yet in Letters hath he skill, How deep he dives in Fairy-lore! The Books I loved, I love […]
Ballade Of Blind Love poem – Andrew Lang poems
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget That ever they loved in their lives, they say; Only remember the fever and fret, And the pain of Love, that was all his pay; All the delight of him passes away From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met - Too late did […]
Ballade Of Autumn poem – Andrew Lang poems
We built a castle in the air, In summer weather, you and I, The wind and sun were in your hair, - Gold hair against a sapphire sky: When Autumn came, with leaves that fly Before the storm, across the plain, You fled from me, with scarce a sigh - My Love returns […]
Ballade Of Aucassin poem – Andrew Lang poems
Where smooth the southern waters run By rustling leagues of poplars grey, Beneath a veiled soft southern sun, We wandered out of yesterday, Went maying through that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are fragrant yet, And loitered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and Nicolette. The grass-grown paths are trod of none Where […]
Ballade Against The Jesuits poem – Andrew Lang poems
Rome does right well to censure all the vain Talk of Jansenius, and of them who preach That earthly joys are damnable! ‘Tis plain We need not charge at Heaven as at a breach; No, amble on! We’ll gain it, one and all; The narrow path’s a dream fantastical, And Arnauld’s quite superfluously […]
Auld Maitland poem – Andrew Lang poems
There lived a king in southern land, King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane. He had a sister’s son o’s ain, Was large of blood and bane; And afterward, when he came up, Young Edward hight his name. One day he came before the king, […]
Annan Water poem – Andrew Lang poems
“Annan water’s wading deep, And my love Annie’s wondrous bonny; And I am laith she suld weet her feet, Because I love her best of ony. “Gar saddle me the bonny black,– Gar saddle sune, and make him ready: For I will down the Gatehope-Slack, And all to see my bonny ladye.”– He […]
Alison Gross poem – Andrew Lang poems
O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tow’r, The ugliest witch in the north countrie, She trysted me ae day up till her bow’r, And mony fair speeches she made to me. She straik’d my head, and she kaim’d my hair, And she set me down saftly on her knee; Says–“If ye will […]
Aesop poem – Andrew Lang poems
HE sat among the woods; he heard The sylvan merriment; he saw The pranks of butterfly and bird, The humors of the ape, the daw. And in the lion or the frog,- In all the life of moor and fen,- In ass and peacock, stork and dog, He read similitudes of men. “Of […]
A Scot To Jeanne D’Arc poem – Andrew Lang poems
DARK Lily without blame, Not upon us the shame, Whose sires were to the Auld Alliance true; They, by the Maiden’s side, Victorious fought and died; One stood by thee that fiery torment through, Till the White Dove from thy pure lips had passed, And thou wert with thine own St. Catherine at […]
A Portrait Of 1783 poem – Andrew Lang poems
Your hair and chin are like the hair And chin Burne-Jones’s ladies wear; You were unfashionably fair In ’83; And sad you were when girls are gay, You read a book about Le vrai Merite de l’homme, alone in May. What CAN it be, Le vrai merite de l’homme? Not gold, Not titles […]
A Highly Valuable Chain Of Thoughts poem – Andrew Lang poems
Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, No man would be a funker Of whin, or burn, or bunker. There were no need for mashies, The turf would ne’er be torn, Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn. Had cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, The big […]
Young Love poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Come little Infant, Love me now, While thine unsuspected years Clear thine aged Fathers brow From cold Jealousie and Fears. Pretty surely ’twere to see By young Love old Time beguil’d: While our Sportings are as free As the Nurses with the Child. Common Beauties stay fifteen; Such as yours should swifter move; […]
Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow poem – Andrew Marvell poems
To the Lord Fairfax. See how the arched Earth does here Rise in a perfect Hemisphere! The stiffest Compass could not strike A line more circular and like; Nor softest Pensel draw a Brow. So equal as this Hill does bow. It seems as for a Model laid, And that the World by it […]
Upon An Eunuch; A Poet. Fragment poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Nec sterilem te crede; Licet, mulieribus exul, Falcem virginiae nequeas immitere messi, Et nostro peccare modo. Tibi Fama perenne Praegnabit; rapiesque novem de monse Sorores; Et pariet modulos Echo repetita Nepotes. *** Poems by Andrew Marvell Andrew Marvell
Upon Appleton House, to My Lord Fairfax poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to Pastures hew; Who of his great Design in pain Did for a Model vault his Brain, Whose Columnes should so high be rais’d To arch the Brows that on them gaz’d. Why should of […]
Translated poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Facundis dedit ille notis, interprete plumas Insinuare sonos oculis, & pingere voces, Et mentem chartis, oculis impertiit aurem. *** Poems by Andrew Marvell Andrew Marvell
Tom May’s Death poem – Andrew Marvell poems
As one put drunk into the Packet-boat, Tom May was hurry’d hence and did not know’t. But was amaz’d on the Elysian side, And with an Eye uncertain, gazing wide, Could not determine in what place he was, For whence in Stevens ally Trees or Grass. Nor where the Popes head, nor the Mitre […]
To Songs At the Marriage Of The Lord Fauconberg And The Lady Mary Cromwell poem – Andrew Marvell poems
song Fauc1 First. [Chorus. Endymion. Luna.] Chorus. Th’ Astrologers own Eyes are set, And even Wolves the Sheep forget; Only this Shepherd, late and soon, Upon this Hill outwakes the Moon. Heark how he sings, with sad delight, Thorough the clear and silent Night. Endymion Cynthia, O Cynthia, turn thine Ear, […]
To His Worthy Friend Doctor Witty Upon His Translation Of The Popular Errors poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Sit further, and make room for thine own fame, Where just desert enrolles thy honour’d Name The good Interpreter. Some in this task Take of the Cypress vail, but leave a mask, Changing the Latine, but do more obscure That sence in English which was bright and pure. So of Translators they are Authors […]
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Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love’s day. Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, […]
To His Noble Friend, Mr. Richard Lovelace, Upon His Poems poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Sir, Our times are much degenerate from those Which your sweet muse with your fair fortune chose, And as complexions alter with the climes, Our wits have drawn the infection of our times. That candid age no other way could tell To be ingenious, but by speaking well. Who best could praise had then […]
To Christina, Queen of Sweden poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Verses to accompany a portrait of Cromwell Bright Martial Maid, Queen of the frozen zone, The northern pole supports thy shining throne. Behold what furrows age and steel can plough; The helmet’s weight oppressed this wrinkled brow. Through fate’s untrodden paths I move; my hands Still act my free-born people’s bold commands; Yet this […]
Thoughts in a Garden poem – Andrew Marvell poems
HOW vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow-verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close To weave the garlands of repose! Fair Quiet, have I found […]
The Unfortunate Lover poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Alas, how pleasant are their dayes With whom the Infant Love yet playes! Sorted by pairs, they still are seen By Fountains cool, and Shadows green. But soon these Flames do lose their light, Like Meteors of a Summers night: Nor can they to that Region climb, To make impression upon Time. ‘Twas in […]
The Picture Of Little T.C. In A Prospect Of Flowers poem – Andrew Marvell poems
See with what simplicity This Nimph begins her golden daies! In the green Grass she loves to lie, And there with her fair Aspect tames The Wilder flow’rs, and gives them names: But only with the Roses playes; And them does tell What Colour best becomes them, and what Smell. Who can foretel for […]
The Mower’s Song poem – Andrew Marvell poems
My Mind was once the true survey Of all these Medows fresh and gay; And in the greenness of the Grass Did see its Hopes as in a Glass; When Juliana came, and she What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. But these, while I with Sorrow pine, Grew […]
The Nymph Complaining For The Death Of Her Faun poem – Andrew Marvell poems
The wanton Troopers riding by Have shot my Faun and it will dye. Ungentle men! They cannot thrive To kill thee. Thou neer didst alive Them any harm: alas nor cou’d Thy death yet do them any good. I’me sure I never wisht them ill; Nor do I for all this; nor will: But, […]
The Mower To The Glo-Worms poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Ye living Lamps, by whose dear light The Nightingale does sit so late, And studying all the Summer-night, Her matchless Songs does meditate; Ye Country Comets, that portend No War, nor Princes funeral, Shining unto no higher end Then to presage the Grasses fall; Ye Glo-worms, whose officious Flame To wandring Mowers shows […]