And over me the sense of beauty fell,
As music over a raptured listener to
The deep-voiced organ breathing out a hymn;
Or as on one who kneels, his beads to tell,
There falls the aureate glory filtered through
The windows in some old cathedral dim.

A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation!
Wherever they can come
With clankum and blankum
'Tis all Botheration, & Hell & Damnation,

My Only Title

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

My only title to her grace
Is her sad, too silent face;
All my right to call her mine
The twin tears that on it shine,

Jest 'Fore Christmas

© Eugene Field

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,

Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!

Sonnet XIX: The Soul's Rialto

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise;

I barter curl for curl upon that mart,

Song Of The Six Hundred M.P.'S

© Ezra Pound

We are 'ere met together
in this momentous hower,
Ter lick th' bankers' dirty boots
an' keep the Bank in power.

A Twig Alighted

© Hayyim Nahman Bialik

A twig alighted on a fence and dozed;

So do I sleep.

Aurora Leigh: Book Three

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"To-day thou girdest up thy loins thyself
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee," said the Lord, "to go
Where thou wouldst not." He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downward.

To D--

© George Gordon Byron

In thee I fondly hoped to clasp
A friend whom death alone could sever;
Till envy, with malignant grasp,
Detach'd thee from my breast for ever.

The Reward

Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime,
Sees not the spectre of his misspent time?
And, through the shade
Of funeral cypress planted thick behind,
Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind
From his loved dead?

Despair

Shut in with phantoms of life's hollow hopes,

And shadows of old sins satiety slew,

Peach Blossom at Dalin Temple

© Bai Juyi

Across the world this June, the petals all have fallen,
But the mountain temple's peach blossom has just begun to bloom.
I regretted so much that spring had gone without a trace,
I didn't know that it had only moved up here.