Dedication From Moremi by Wole Soyinka
Earth will not share the rafter’s envy; dung floors Break, not the gecko’s slight skin, but its fall Taste this soil for death and plumb her deep for life As this yam, wholly earthed, yet a living tuber To the warmth of waters, earthed as springs As roots of baobab, as the hearth. The air […]
Arabian Night’s Entertainments by William Ernest Henley
Once on a time There was a little boy: a master-mage By virtue of a Book Of magic–O, so magical it filled His life with visionary pomps Processional! And Powers Passed with him where he passed. And Thrones And Dominations, glaived and plumed and mailed, Thronged in the criss-cross streets, The palaces pell-mell with playing-fields, […]
Ode–Shell The Old City! Shell! by William Gilmore Simms
I. Shell the old city I shell! Ye myrmidons of Hell; Ye serve your master well, With hellish arts! Hurl down, with bolt and fire, The grand old shrines, the spire; But know, your demon ire Subdues no hearts! II. There, we defy ye still, With sworn and resolute will; Courage ye cannot kill While […]
The Two Springs by William Somervile
Two sister Springs, from the same parent hill, Born on the same propitious day, Through the cleft rock distill; Adown the reverend mountain’s side Through groves of myrtle glide, Or through the violet beds obliquely stray. The laurel, each proud victor’s crown, From them receives her high renown; From them the curling vine Her clusters […]
The Bowling-Green by William Somervile
Where fair Sabrina’s wandering currents flow, A large smooth plain extends its verdant brow; Here every morn, while fruitful vapours feed The swelling blade, and bless the smoking mead, A cruel tyrant reigns: like Time, the swain Whets his unrighteous scythe, and shaves the plain: Beneath each stroke the peeping flowers decay, And all the’ […]
Hunting Song by William Somervile
Behold , my friend! the rosy-finger’d morn With blushes on her face, Peeps o’er yon azure hill; Rich gems the trees enchase, Pearls from each bush distill; Arise, arise, and hail the light new-born. Hark! hark! the merry horn calls, Come away: Quit, quit thy downy bed; Break from Amynta’s arms; Oh! let it ne’er […]
Hobbinol; or The Rural Games – Canto 3 by William Somervile
CANTO III. Though some of old, and some of modern date, Penurious, their victorious heroes fed With barren praise alone; yet thou, my Muse! Benevolent with more indulgent eyes Behold the’ immortal Hobbinol; reward With due regalement his triumphant toils. Let Quixote’s hardy courage, and renown, With Sancho’s prudent care be meetly join’d. O thou […]
Fortune-Hunter, The – Canto 3 by William Somervile
CANTO III. As there is something in a face, An air, and a peculiar grace, Which boldest painters cannot trace, That more than feature, shape, or hair, Distinguishes the happy fair, Strikes every eye, and makes her known A ruling toast through all the town; So in each action ’tis success That gives it all […]
Fortune-Hunter, The – Canto 1 by William Somervile
IN FIVE CANTOS CANTO I . Some authors, more abstruse than wise, Friendship confine to stricter ties, Require exact conformity In person, age, and quality Their humours, principles, and wit Must, like Exchequer tallies, hit: — Others, less scrupulous, opine, That hands and hearts in love may join, Though different inclinations sway, For Nature’s more […]
Epistle from Mr. Somerville, An by William Somervile
Near fair Avona’s silver tide, Whose waves in soft meanders glide, I read, to the delighted swams, Your jocund songs and rural strains. Smooth as her streams your numbers flow; Your thoughts in varied beauties show, Like flow’rs that on her borders grow. While I survey, with ravish’d eyes, His friendly gift, my valued prize, […]
The Russian Fugitive by William Wordsworth
I ENOUGH of rose-bud lips, and eyes Like harebells bathed in dew, Of cheek that with carnation vies, And veins of violet hue; Earth wants not beauty that may scorn A likening to frail flowers; Yea, to the stars, if they were born For seasons and for hours. Through Moscow’s gates, with gold unbarred, Stepped […]
O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art by William Wordsworth
O Nightingale! thou surely art A creature of a “fiery heart”:- These notes of thine-they pierce and pierce; Tumultuous harmony and fierce! Thou sing’st as if the God of wine Had helped thee to a Valentine; A song in mockery and despite Of shades, and dews, and silent night; And steady bliss, and all the […]
Influence of Natural Objects by William Wordsworth
In Calling Forth and Strengthening the Imagination in Boyhood and Early Youth Wisdom and Spirit of the Universe! Thou Soul, that art the Eternity of thought! And giv’st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion! not in vain, By day or star-light, thus from my first dawn Of childhood didst thou intertwine for […]
Hart-Leap Well by William Wordsworth
THE Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor With the slow motion of a summer’s cloud, And now, as he approached a vassal’s door, “Bring forth another horse!” he cried aloud. “Another horse!”–That shout the vassal heard And saddled his best Steed, a comely grey; Sir Walter mounted him; he was the third Which he […]
Epitaphs Translated From Chiabrera by William Wordsworth
I WEEP not, beloved Friends! nor let the air For me with sighs be troubled. Not from life Have I been taken; this is genuine life And this alone–the life which now I live In peace eternal; where desire and joy Together move in fellowship without end.– Francesco Ceni willed that, after death, His tombstone […]
Dion [See Plutarch] by William Wordsworth
Serene, and fitted to embrace, Where’er he turned, a swan-like grace Of haughtiness without pretence, And to unfold a still magnificence, Was princely Dion, in the power And beauty of his happier hour. And what pure homage then did wait On Dion’s virtues, while the lunar beam Of Plato’s genius, from its lofty sphere, Fell […]
Book Third [Residence at Cambridge] by William Wordsworth
IT was a dreary morning when the wheels Rolled over a wide plain o’erhung with clouds, And nothing cheered our way till first we saw The long-roofed chapel of King’s College lift Turrets and pinnacles in answering files, Extended high above a dusky grove. Advancing, we espied upon the road A student clothed in gown […]
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 […]
Book Second [School-Time Continued] by William Wordsworth
THUS far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much Unvisited, endeavoured to retrace The simple ways in which my childhood walked; Those chiefly that first led me to the love Of rivers, woods, and fields. The passion yet Was in its birth, sustained as might befall By nourishment that came unsought; for still From week […]
Book First [Introduction-Childhood and School Time] by William Wordsworth
OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze, A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky. Whate’er its mission, the soft breeze can come To none more grateful than to me; escaped From the vast city, where I […]
Book Fifth-Books by William Wordsworth
WHEN Contemplation, like the night-calm felt Through earth and sky, spreads widely, and sends deep Into the soul its tranquillising power, Even then I sometimes grieve for thee, O Man, Earth’s paramount Creature! not so much for woes That thou endurest; heavy though that weight be, Cloud-like it mounts, or touched with light divine Doth […]
An Evening Walk by William Wordsworth
Addressed To A Young Lady FAR from my dearest Friend, ’tis mine to rove Through bare grey dell, high wood, and pastoral cove; Where Derwent rests, and listens to the roar That stuns the tremulous cliffs of high Lodore; Where peace to Grasmere’s lonely island leads, To willowy hedge-rows, and to emerald meads; Leads to […]
Admonition by William Wordsworth
WELL may’st thou halt-and gaze with brightening eye! The lovely Cottage in the guardian nook Hath stirred thee deeply; with its own dear brook, Its own small pasture, almost its own sky! But covet not the Abode;-forbear to sigh, As many do, repining while they look; Intruders-who would tear from Nature’s book This precious leaf, […]
Love and Wine by William Wycherley
In vain I Drunkenness forswore, Because by That made Sick and Blind; Since tho’ I have the Flask giv’n o’er, Love still intoxicates my Mind. If then for either Sottishness, Alike Man’s Sense is in Disguise; No matter which way, sure, it is, By sparkling Wine, or sparkling Eyes. Yet most debauch’d the Lovers shew, […]
Drinking-Song, A. To a Formal, Proud, Sober Coxcomb by William Wycherley
I. Let the Dull, Sober, and the Grave, But fit for drudging, Bus’ness have; Let sitting still, my Hand employ, My busie Tongue, not thoughtless Head; Employment, which wou’d Cares destroy, Not such, by which, more still are bred; II. Let all Ambitious Sots flie high, To make their Steps more slippery, Whilst I, with […]
Love Sonnet XLIX poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
In me there is a vast and lonely place, Where none, not even you, have walked in sight. A wide, still vale of solitude and light, Where Silence echoes into ebbing space. And there I creep at times and hide my face, While in myself I fathom wrong and right, And all the timeless ages […]
Someone left a pen… poem – Yuyutsu Sharma poems | Poetry Monster
Someone left a pen… poem – Yuyutsu Sharma poems | Poetry Monster On the forsakentable of a restaurant, Zwarte Ruiter,Starbucks, Willy’s Bar,someone left a pen for me. Someone lefta feather, a note scribbledin a language illegiblealong the stony pavements of a dome,Milan, Rome, Koln. Someone left a page,flash of a naked conch shell on an abandoned shore,Den […]
Sabbath, My Love poem – Yehudah ha-Levi poems | Poetry Monster
Sabbath, My Love poem – Yehudah ha-Levi poems | Poetry Monster greet my love with wine and gladsome lay;Welcome, thrice welcome, joyous Seventh Day! Six slaves the weekdays are; I shareWith them a round of toil and care,Yet light the burdens seem, I bearFor your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love! On the First-day to the […]
Requiem For A Bartender’s Dream poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
Requiem For A Bartender's Dream poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster Requiem For A Bartender's Dream by Ysabelle Moriarty Music wafts fromThe concert hallInto my empty bar.The fact that I’m notThe one taking the stageReopens a long closed scar.The glasses stand readyThere’s wine to be pouredThe performer’s hopeTo be adored.Just close your eyes […]
La Vie Boheme poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
La Vie Boheme poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster La Vie Boheme by Ysabelle Moriarty We try to writeAnd dance and singAnd other sillyCreative things.Getting nowhereSlowly dieErode our soulsSell out and lie.Magnum opusLeft half doneCan’t afford toHave much fun.I’m over dramaticBut our lives are realWorking, whoring.To borrow or steal?We wait for a chanceBut […]
Gazel poem – Yahya Kemal Beyatli poems | Poetry Monster
Gazel poem – Yahya Kemal Beyatli poems | Poetry Monster The ancient carouse of JemshidWith a tinkling of wine-cups returns;And pleasure from nightfall till dawnWith cyclical dances returns.The mirrors of pleasure reflectThe flames of the torch of the heart;With a thousand moons and starsBeauty with passion returns.The souls of the chantings of oldRise open and […]
Civil War Songs
Civil War Songs – a small collection of American Civil War Songs [lwptoc] THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM by George F. Root, 1862 Yes, we’ll rally round the flag, boys rally once again, Shouting the Battle Cry of Freedom And we’ll rally from the hillside We’ll gather from the plains, Shouting the Battle Cry […]
The Hecatomb to his Mistress by John Cleveland
Hecatomb The Hecatomb to his Mistress. Be dumb, you beggars of the rhyming trade, Geld your loose wits and let your Muse be spayed. Charge not the parish with the bastard phrase Of balm, elixir, both the Indias, Of shrine, saint, sacrilege, and such as these Expressions common as your mistresses. Hence, […]
Guillaume de Lorris Belated: A Vision of Italy by Ezra Pound
(translated, interpreted by Ezra Pound) 1) Wisdom set apart from all desire, A hoary Nestor with youth’s own glad eyes, Him met I at the style, and all benign He greeted me an equal and I knew, By this his lack of pomp, he was himself. Slow-Smiling is companion unto him, And Mellow-Laughter serves, his […]