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 Horatian Ode Upon Cromwell’s Return from Ireland poem – Andrew Marvell poems
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 th’ unused armour’s rust, Removing from the wall The corslet of the hall. So restless Cromwell could not cease In the inglorious arts of […]
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 […]
A Dialogue, Between the Resolved Soul, And Created Pleasure poem – Andrew Marvell poems
Courage my Soul, now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal Shield. Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright. Ballance thy Sword against the Fight. See where an Army, strong as fair, With silken Banners spreads the air. Now, if thou bee’st that thing Divine, In this day’s Combat let it shine: And […]
Winter Seascape poem – John Betjeman poems
The sea runs back against itself With scarcely time for breaking wave To cannonade a slatey shelf And thunder under in a cave. Before the next can fully burst The headwind, blowing harder still, Smooths it to what it was at first – A slowly rolling water-hill. Against the breeze the breakers […]
Winter Landscape poem – John Betjeman poems
The three men coming down the winter hill In brown, with tall poles and a pack of hounds At heel, through the arrangement of the trees, Past the five figures at the burning straw, Returning cold and silent to their town, Returning to the drifted snow, the rink Lively with children, to the older […]
Westgate-On-Sea poem – John Betjeman poems
Hark, I hear the bells of Westgate, I will tell you what they sigh, Where those minarets and steeples Prick the open Thanet sky. Happy bells of eighteen-ninety, Bursting from your freestone tower! Recalling laurel, shrubs and privet, Red geraniums in flower. Feet that scamper on the asphalt Through the Borough Council […]
Verses Turned… poem – John Betjeman poems
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candlelight And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strokes Pleads louder than the stirring oaks The leafless lanes along. It calls the hoirboys from their tea And villagers, the two or three, Damp down the kitchen fire, Let out the cat, and […]
Upper Lambourne poem – John Betjeman poems
Up the ash tree climbs the ivy, Up the ivy climbs the sun, With a twenty-thousand pattering, Has a valley breeze begun, Feathery ash, neglected elder, Shift the shade and make it run – Shift the shade toward the nettles, And the nettles set it free, To streak the stained Carrara headstone, Where, […]
Trebetherick poem – John Betjeman poems
We used to picnic where the thrift Grew deep and tufted to the edge; We saw the yellow foam flakes drift In trembling sponges on the ledge Below us, till the wind would lift Them up the cliff and o’er the hedge. Sand in the sandwiches, wasps in the tea, Sun on our bathing […]
The Plantster’s Vision poem – John Betjeman poems
Cut down that timber! Bells, too many and strong, Pouring their music through the branches bare, From moon-white church towers down the windy air Have pealed the centuries out with Evensong. Remove those cottages, a huddled throng! Too many babies have been born in there, Too many coffins, bumping down the stair, Carried […]
The Olympic Girl poem – John Betjeman poems
The sort of girl I like to see Smiles down from her great height at me. She stands in strong, athletic pose And wrinkles her retrouss? nose. Is it distaste that makes her frown, So furious and freckled, down On an unhealthy worm like me? Or am I what she likes to see? I […]
The Licorice Fields at Pontefract poem – John Betjeman poems
In the licorice fields at Pontefract My love and I did meet And many a burdened licorice bush Was blooming round our feet; Red hair she had and golden skin, Her sulky lips were shaped for sin, Her sturdy legs were flannel-slack’d The strongest legs in Pontefract. The light and dangling licorice flowers […]
The Last Laugh poem – John Betjeman poems
I made hay while the sun shone. My work sold. Now, if the harvest is over And the world cold, Give me the bonus of laughter As I lose hold. *** More poems by John Betjeman: John BetjemanSir John Betjeman CBE (1906 […]
The Irish Unionist’s farewell to Greta Hellastrom in 1922 poem – John Betjeman poems
Golden haired and golden hearted I would ever have you be, As you were when last we parted Smiling slow and sad at me. Oh! the fighting down of passion! Oh! the century-seeming pain- Parting in this off-hand fashion In Dungarvan in the rain. Slanting eyes of blue, unweeping Stands my Swedish beauty […]
The Hon. Sec. poem – John Betjeman poems
The flag that hung half-mast today Seemed animate with being As if it knew for who it flew And will no more be seeing. He loved each corner of the links- The stream at the eleventh, The grey-green bents, the pale sea-pinks, The prospect from the seventh; To the ninth tee the […]
The Cottage Hospital poem – John Betjeman poems
At the end of a long-walled garden in a red provincial town, A brick path led to a mulberry- scanty grass at its feet. I lay under blackening branches where the mulberry leaves hung down Sheltering ruby fruit globes from a Sunday-tea-time heat. Apple and plum espaliers basked upon bricks of brown; The air […]
Sun and Fun poem – John Betjeman poems
I walked into the night-club in the morning; There was kummel on the handle of the door. The ashtrays were unemptied. The cleaning unattempted, And a squashed tomato sandwich on the floor. I pulled aside the thick magenta curtains -So Regency, so Regency, my dear – And a host of little spiders Ran […]
South London Sketch poem – John Betjeman poems
From Bermondsey to Wandsworth So many churches are, Some with apsidal chancels, Some Perpendicular And schools by E.R. Robson In the style of Norman Shaw Where blue-serged adolescence learn’d To model and to draw. Oh, in among the houses, The viaduct below, Stood the Coffee Essence Factory Of Robinson and Co. Burnt and […]
Slough poem – John Betjeman poems
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough! It isn’t fit for humans now, There isn’t grass to graze a cow. Swarm over, Death! Come, bombs and blow to smithereens Those air -conditioned, bright canteens, Tinned fruit, tinned meat, tinned milk, tinned beans, Tinned minds, tinned breath. Mess up the mess they call […]
Senex poem – John Betjeman poems
Oh would I could subdue the flesh Which sadly troubles me! And then perhaps could view the flesh As though I never knew the flesh And merry misery. To see the golden hiking girl With wind about her hair, The tennis-playing, biking girl, The wholly-to-my-liking girl, To see and not to care. […]
Seaside Golf poem – John Betjeman poems
How straight it flew, how long it flew, It clear’d the rutty track And soaring, disappeared from view Beyond the bunker’s back – A glorious, sailing, bounding drive That made me glad I was alive. And down the fairway, far along It glowed a lonely white; I played an iron sure and strong […]
On a Portrait of a Deaf Man poem – John Betjeman poems
The kind old face, the egg-shaped head, The tie, discreetly loud, The loosely fitting shooting clothes, A closely fitting shroud. He liked old city dining rooms, Potatoes in their skin, But now his mouth is wide to let The London clay come in. He took me on long silent walks In country […]
Myfanwy poem – John Betjeman poems
Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy, White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress, Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery Soap scented fingers I long to caress. Were you a prefect and head of your dormit’ry? Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym? Who was your favourite? […]
Mortality poem – John Betjeman poems
The first-class brains of a senior civil servant Shiver and shatter and fall As the steering column of his comfortable Humber Batters in the bony wall. All those delicate re-adjustments “On the one hand, if we proceed With the ad hoc policy hitherto adapted To individual need… On the other hand, too rigid an […]
Middlesex poem – John Betjeman poems
Gaily into Ruislip Gardens Runs the red electric train, With a thousand Ta’s and Pardon’s Daintily alights Elaine; Hurries down the concrete station With a frown of concentration, Out into the outskirt’s edges Where a few surviving hedges Keep alive our lost Elysium; rural Middlesex again. Well cut Windsmoor flapping lightly, Jacqmar scarf […]