Epigramma in Duos montes Amosclivum Et Bilboreum poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Farfacio. Cernis ut ingenti distinguant limite campum Montis Amos clivi Bilboreique juga! Ille stat indomitus turritis undisque saxis: Cingit huic laetum Fraximus alta Caput. Illi petra minax rigidis cervicibus horret: Huic quatiunt viridis lenia colla jubas. Fulcit Atlanteo Rupes ea vertice coelos: Collis at hic humeros subjicit Herculeos. Hic ceu carceribus visum sylvaque coercet: […]

Dignissimo Suo Amico Doctori Wittie. De Translatione Vulgi poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Nempe sic innumero succrescunt agmine libri, Saepia vix toto ut jam natet una mari. Fortius assidui surgunt a vulnere praeli: Quoque magis pressa est, auctior Hydra redit. Heu quibus Anticyris, quibus est sanabilis herbis Improba scribendi pestis, avarus amor! India sola tenet tanti medicamina morbi, Dicitur & nostris ingemuisse malis. Utile Tabacci dedit illa […]

Edmundi Trotii Epitaphium poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Charissimo Filio Edmundo Trotio Posuimus Pater & Mater Frustra superstites. Legite Parentes, vanissimus hominum ordo, Figuli Filiorum, Substructores Hominum, Fartores Opum, Longi Speratores, Et nostro, si fas, sapite infortunio. Fruit Edmundus Trottuis. E quatuor masculae stirpis residuus, Statura justa, Forma virili, specie eximic, Medio juventutis Robore simul & Flore, Alpectu, In cessu, sermone juxta […]

Daphnis And Chloe poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Daphnis must from Chloe part: Now is come the dismal Hour That must all his Hopes devour, All his Labour, all his Art. Nature, her own Sexes foe, Long had taught her to be coy: But she neither knew t’ enjoy, Nor yet let her Lover go. But, with this sad News surpriz’d, […]

Damon The Mower poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Heark how the Mower Damon Sung, With love of Juliana stung! While ev’ry thing did seem to paint The Scene more fit for his complaint. Like her fair Eyes the day was fair; But scorching like his am’rous Care. Sharp like his Sythe his Sorrow was, And wither’d like his Hopes the Grass. Oh […]

Cromwell’s Return poem – Andrew Marvell poems

An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell’s Return From Ireland The forward youth that would appear Must now forsake his muses dear, Nor in the shadows sing, His numbers languishing. ‘Tis time to leave the books in dust, And oil the unus?d armour’s rust: Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell […]

Clorinda And Damon poem – Andrew Marvell poems

C. Damon come drive thy flocks this way. D. No : ’tis too late they went astray. C. I have a grassy Scutcheon spy’d, Where Flora blazons all her pride. The grass I aim to feast thy Sheep : The Flow’rs I for thy Temples keep. D. Grass withers; and the Flow’rs […]

Bermudas poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Where the remote Bermudas ride In th’ Oceans bosome unespy’d, From a small Boat, that row’d along, The listning Winds receiv’d this Song. What should we do but sing his Praise That led us through the watry Maze, Unto an Isle so long unknown, And yet far kinder than our own? Where he the […]

Blake’s Victory poem – Andrew Marvell poems

On the Victory Obtained by Blake over the Spaniards in the Bay of Santa Cruz, in the Island of Tenerife, 1657 Now does Spain’s fleet her spacious wings unfold, Leaves the New World and hastens for the old: But though the wind was fair, they slowly swum Freighted with acted guilt, and guilt to […]

An Epitaph poem – Andrew Marvell poems

ENOUGH; and leave the rest to Fame! ‘Tis to commend her, but to name. Courtship which, living, she declined, When dead, to offer were unkind: Nor can the truest wit, or friend, Without detracting, her commend. To say–she lived a virgin chaste In this age loose and all unlaced; Nor was, when vice is […]

Ametas And Thestylis Making Hay-Ropes poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Ametas Think’st Thou that this Love can stand, Whilst Thou still dost say me nay? Love unpaid does soon disband: Love binds Love as Hay binds Hay. Thestylis Think’st Thou that this Rope would twine If we both should turn one way? Where both parties so combine, Neither Love will twist nor Hay. […]

Aliter poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Regibus haec posuit Ludovicus Templa futuris; Gratior ast ipsi Castra fuere Domus.   *** Poems by Andrew Marvell Andrew Marvell   Andrew MarvellAndrew Marvell (1621-1678) was a renowned English poet and politician who lived during the 17th century. He is widely recognized for his skillful […]

A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C. poem – Andrew Marvell poems

That Providence which had so long the care Of Cromwell’s head, and numbred ev’ry hair, Now in its self (the Glass where all appears) Had seen the period of his golden Years: And thenceforth onely did attend to trace, What death might least so sair a Life deface. The People, which what most they […]

A Letter To Doctor Ingelo, then With My Lord Whitlock, Amba poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Quid facis Arctoi charissime transfuga coeli, Ingele, proh sero cognite, rapte cito? Num satis Hybernum defendis pellibus Astrum, Qui modo tam mollis nec bene firmus eras? Quae Gentes Hominum, quae sit Natura Locorum, Sint Homines, potius dic ibi sintre Loca? Num gravis horrisono Polus obruit omnia lapsu, Jungitur & praeceps Mundas utraque nive? An […]

A Garden, Written after the Civil Wars poem – Andrew Marvell poems

SEE how the flowers, as at parade, Under their colours stand display’d: Each regiment in order grows, That of the tulip, pink, and rose. But when the vigilant patrol Of stars walks round about the pole, Their leaves, that to the stalks are curl’d, Seem to their staves the ensigns furl’d. Then in some […]

A Dialogue Between Thyrsis And Dorinda poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Dorinda When Death, shall snatch us from these Kids, And shut up our divided Lids, Tell me Thyrsis, prethee do, Whither thou and I must go. Thyrsis To the Elizium: (Dorinda) oh where i’st? Thyrsis A Chast Soul, can never mis’t. Dorinda I know no way, but one, our home Is our […]

A Dialogue Between The Soul And Body poem – Andrew Marvell poems

Soul O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise A Soul inslav’d so many wayes? With bolts of Bones, that fetter’d stands In Feet ; and manacled in Hands. Here blinded with an Eye ; and there Deaf with the drumming of an Ear. A Soul hung up, as ’twere, in Chains Of Nerves, and […]

Arrow through the bellybutton poem

In days of youth, when life was new, A boy so dear, a tale to do, With his eyes bright, and spirits bold, He captured hearts, young and old. His belly button, round and deep, Inviting fingers to seep, And in it secret pure and true, A treasure kept, for me and you. One day, […]

In shadows of night

In shadows of night, a venomous snake, Slithering silently, its lethal fate. With eyes that gleam like emerald fire, Its poison desire, deadly and dire. Coiled and ready to strike with might, In darkness it lurks, out of sight. Beware the serpent, cunning and sly, Its fangs filled with venom, none deny. A creature of […]

The Snake

In twists of fate, a serpentine shape Slithers in the grass, a stealthy escape Bites its prey, a venomous sting Poison courses through the victim’s wing A deadly dance, a wicked spin As life drains out, a sorrowful din Echoes of screams, a haunting refrain As death claims another soul in vain The snake’s embrace, […]

Forever

Dripping mannerisms. Pitter pattering Intentions Make this up. Wake us up. Who can drown this chaos in a new reality? Who would really want to? All we know is the unknown. Would it make a difference if tears of pity touched your spirit? Could forever manifest in you as it falls from me? Or was […]

Storm poem – André Rostant poems

thunder no – but thunder all along the night we set our course that hurl the lightning bolt, that force the sickness from our tiny minds some new emotion must be found some feeling we have not yet tried to frame, against the gurning face the tide, so murderously heaped and churned […]

Limbo Under the Westway poem – André Rostant poems

how we could carpet notting hill how decorate the harrow road with flock wallpaper, chintz and sheen from maida hill to portobello green barefoot, then, we would walk around stroking our walls: beloved; pure soft now, westway’s wild hushing stream over the canal and portobello green we’d need a f*ck off […]

A Rainy Night poem – André Rostant poems

stood idle in the doorway of his shop the dark winter rain glossed harrow road with here and there a shadow hurrying yet those few people crowd the street with mood that makes the rain fall slower than it should where falls on forms or shapes into the night the brief, imagined outlines of our […]

“European Union” by the (Roman/German) Eagles

On a dark Brussels highway, Schwarzkopf Taft in my hair Scent of Belgian waffles, rising up through the air Up ahead in the distance, a Jupiterian light My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim I had to stop for the night There she stood in the doorway; I heard the division bell And […]

Less Time poem – Andre Breton poems

Less time than it takes to say it, less tears than it takes to die; I’ve taken account of everything, there you have it. I’ve made a census of the stones, they are as numerous as my fingers and some others; I’ve distributed some pamphlets to the plants, but not all were willing to […]

Le Verbe Etre poem – Andre Breton poems

Je connais le désespoir dans ses grandes lignes. Le désespoir n’a pas d’ailes, il ne se tient pas nécessairement à une table desservie sur une terrasse, le soir, au bord de la mer. C’est le désespoir et ce n’est pas le retour d’une quantité de petits faits comme des graines qui quittent à la […]

Five Ways To Kill A Man poem – Andre Breton poems

There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man. You can make him carry a plank of wood to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this properly you require a crowd of people wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and […]

Always for the first time

  Always for the first time Hardly do I know you by sight You return at some hour of the night to a house at an angle to my window A wholly imaginary house It is there that from one second to the next In the inviolate darkness I anticipate once more the fascinating rift […]

I have a dream

I have a dream A sweet dream A rain Of 2000 pound bombs falling On Tel Aviv Monumental explosions Eruptions of dust Engulfed in fire The nest of villainous Despicable vermin Squeals Bloodstreams Of filthy Zionist blood Flow in a stream Into the gutter The cancerous statelet Goes bust Fun A campaign Of universal liberation […]

Shame

In twisted hues of purple and blue, A feeling creeps that I once knew, Shame, oh how you haunt me still, A ghostly presence that chills my will. Your whispers echo through my mind, “You’re not enough,” your voice so unkind, With each step, my heart entwined, I falter, lost in self-despised shrine. The world […]

About Wedding Dress

In the realm of love’s sacred dance, Where two souls unite in a chance, Lies the tale of a sacred dress, Woven of dreams and tenderness. A fabric spun with blushing silk, Embracing hope that time can’t wilt, With ivory threads, a tapestry, Of a love with pure transparency. Behold, the wedding dress divine, A […]

What Being in Rank-Old Nature poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems

What being in rank-old nature should earlier have that breath been That h?re p?rsonal tells off these heart-song powerful peals?— A bush-browed, beetle-br?wed b?llow is it? With a so?th-w?sterly w?nd bl?stering, with a tide rolls reels Of crumbling, fore-foundering, thundering all-surfy seas in; seen ?nderneath, their glassy barrel, of a fairy green. . . […]

Tom’s Garland poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems

upon the Unemployed Tom—garlanded with squat and surly steel Tom; then Tom’s fallowbootfellow piles pick By him and rips out rockfire homeforth—sturdy Dick; Tom Heart-at-ease, Tom Navvy: he is all for his meal Sure, ‘s bed now. Low be it: lustily he his low lot (feel That ne’er need hunger, Tom; Tom seldom […]

To What Serves Mortal Beauty? poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems

To what serves mortal beauty ‘—dangerous; does set danc- ing blood—the O-seal-that-so ‘ feature, flung prouder form Than Purcell tune lets tread to? ‘ See: it does this: keeps warm Men’s wits to the things that are; ‘ what good means—where a glance Master more may than gaze, ‘ gaze out of countenance. Those […]