Orlando Furioso Canto 10 by Ludovico Ariosto
ARGUMENT Another love assails Bireno’s breast, Who leaves one night Olympia on the shore. To Logistilla’s holy realm addressed, Rogero goes, nor heeds Alcina more: Him, of that flying courser repossest, The hippogryph on airy voyage bore: Whence he the good Rinaldo’s levy sees, And next Angelica beholds and frees. I Of all the loves, […]
Orlando Furioso Canto 18 by Ludovico Ariosto
ARGUMENT Gryphon is venged. Sir Mandricardo goes In search of Argier’s king. Charles wins the fight. Marphisa Norandino’s men o’erthrows. Due pains Martano’s cowardice requite. A favouring wind Marphisa’s gallery blows, For France with Gryphon bound and many a knight. The field Medoro and Cloridano tread, And find their monarch Dardinello dead. I High minded […]
Baltimore Was Always Blue by Michael Salcman
Baltimore Was Always Blue by Michael Salcman Goodbye America of the blue overalls and steel-toed boots, goodbye, goodbye. The headline in The Sun said it all today in type as tall as the re-election of a president: General Motors Closes Its Broening Highway Plant. Don’t you remember when they said what was good for GM […]
New York’s Bad Dream by Matthew Abuelo
New York’s Bad Dream by Matthew Abuelo New York used to be a squatters town and a misfits town and a union town. This is where you could find a cheap room at the Chelsea or the Dexter House with a bathroom down the hall. Or at the Commander. Many SROs vanished into the remains […]
Only Iraq by Mahmoud Darwish
I remember A’SSayyab*, shouting at the Gulf in vain: Iraq, Iraq, Only Iraq… And from echo comes the only answer. I remember A’SSayyab….at this Soumari space A female had triumphed over the sterility of haze And bequeathed us both the earth and the exile. I remember A’Ssayyab…that poetry is born in Iraq So be an […]
A Farewel To America to Mrs. S. W. by Phillis Wheatley
I. ADIEU, New-England’s smiling meads, Adieu, the flow’ry plain: I leave thine op’ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring main. II. In vain for me the flow’rets rise, And boast their gaudy pride, While here beneath the northern skies I mourn for health deny’d. III. Celestial maid of rosy hue, O let me feel […]
Memory Of My Father by Patrick Kavanagh
Memory Of My Father by Patrick Kavanagh Every old man I see Reminds me of my father When he had fallen in love with death One time when sheaves were gathered. That man I saw in Gardner Street Stumbled on the kerb was one, He stared at me half-eyed, I might have been his son. […]
The Essay on Liberty by Abraham Cowley
OF SOLITUDE. “Nunquam minus solus, quam cum solis,” is now become a very vulgar saying. Every man and almost every boy for these seventeen hundred years has had it in his mouth. But it was at first spoken by the excellent Scipio, who was without question a most worthy, most happy, and the greatest of all […]
Bishop Blougram’s Apology by Robert Browning
NO more wine? then we’ll push back chairs and talk. A final glass for me, though: cool, i’ faith! We ought to have our Abbey back, you see. It’s different, preaching in basilicas, And doing duty in some masterpiece Like this of brother Pugin’s, bless his heart! I doubt if they’re half baked, those chalk […]
The Declaration of London by Rudyard Kipling
We were all one heart and one race When the Abbey trumpets blew. For a moment’s breathing-space We had forgotten you. Now you return to your honoured place Panting to shame us anew. We have walked with the Ages dead– With our Past alive and ablaze. And you bid us pawn our honour for bread, […]
A Wife In London by Thomas Hardy
December 1899 I She sits in the tawny vapour That the Thames-side lanes have uprolled, Behind whose webby fold-on-fold Like a waning taper The street-lamp glimmers cold. A messenger’s knock cracks smartly, Flashed news in her hand Of meaning it dazes to understand Though shaped so shortly: He-he has fallen-in the far South Land… II […]
London Roses by Willa Cather
“Rowse, Rowses! Penny a bunch!” they tell you– Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you. Roses, roses, red in the Kensington sun, Holland Road, High Street, Bayswater, see you and smell you– Roses of London town, red till the summer is done. Roses, roses, locust and lilac, perfuming West End, East End, wondrously budding […]
An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode
An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly Stretch’d in a bed of clay, whose charity Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme He keepes those warme that else would […]
To the City of London by William Dunbar
To the City of London by William Dunbar London, thou art of town{.e}s A per se. Soveraign of cities, semeliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches, and royaltie; Of lordis, barons, and many goodly knyght; Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce and myght: London, […]
In Honour of the City of London by William Dunbar
In Honour of the City of London by William Dunbar LONDON, thou art of townes A per se. Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches and royaltie; Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght; Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis, in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce […]
On The Queen’s Visit To London, The Night Of The 17th March 1789 by William Cowper
When, long sequestered from his throne, George took his seat again, By right of worth, not blood alone Entitled here to reign; Then, Loyalty, with all his lamps New trimmed, a gallant show, Chasing the darkness and the damps, Set London in a glow. ‘Twas hard to tell of streets or squares, Which formed the […]
Written in London. September, 1802 by William Wordsworth
O Friend! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! – We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest: The wealthiest man among […]
London, 1802 by William Wordsworth
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men; Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give […]
Book Seventh [Residence in London] by William Wordsworth
SIX changeful years have vanished since I first Poured out (saluted by that quickening breeze Which met me issuing from the City’s walls) A glad preamble to this Verse: I sang Aloud, with fervour irresistible Of short-lived transport, like a torrent bursting, From a black thunder-cloud, down Scafell’s side To rush and disappear. But soon […]