All Poems
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No Sorrow Peculiar To The Sufferer
© William Cowper
The lover, in melodious verses,
His singular distress rehearses;
Upon The Swallow
© John Bunyan
This pretty bird, O! how she flies and sings,
But could she do so if she had not wings?
Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace;
When I believe and sing my doubtings cease.
The Sunset, Woven Of Soft Lights
© Katharine Lee Bates
THE sunset, woven of soft lights
And tender colors, lingers late,
Summer
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Winter is cold-hearted
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way:
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;
Faith II
© Edith Nesbit
THROUGH the long night, the deathlong night,
Along the dark and haunted way,
I knew your hidden face was bright--
More bright than any day.
On his own Book
© Theocritus
Not my namesake of Chios, but I, who belong
To the Syracuse burghers, have sung you my song.
I'm Praxagoras' son by Philinna the fair,
And I never asked praise that was owing elsewhere.
Astarte Syriaca
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
MYSTERY: lo! betwixt the sun and moon
Astarte of the Syrians: Venus Queen
Rubaiyat 25
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
O friend, from your foes your heart release,
In pleasant company drink the good wine with ease.
Confer with those who know, open your heart
And from the ignorant fleas flee like the breeze.
The Greek At Constantinople
© Richard Monckton Milnes
The cypresses of Scutari
In stern magnificence look down
On the bright lake and stream of sea,
And glittering theatre of town:
Nature
© Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
How tranquil is this little mountain lake
Its filled with water like a cup
Bamboo looks just like little houses
And trees above a sea of roofs.
The Picture Of Sappho
© Caroline Norton
FAME, to thy breaking heart
No comfort could impart,
In vain thy brow the laurel wreath was wearing;
One grief and one alone
Could bow thy bright head down--
Thou wert a WOMAN, and wert left despairing!
Sleep-Stealer
© Rabindranath Tagore
Who stole sleep from baby's eyes? I must know.
Clasping her pitcher to her waist mother went to fetch water
Bon Voyage - And Vice Versa
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Ah, canst thou bear the surging deep?
Canst thou endure the hard ship's-mattress?
For scant will be thy hours of sleep
From Staten Island to Cape Hatt'ras;
And won't thy fairy feet be froze
With treading on the foreign snows?
I Have Been Pierced By The Arrow Of Love
© Bulleh Shah
I have been pierced by the arrow of love,
what shall I do ?
