All Poems
/ page 277 of 3210 /The Heretic's Tragedy
© Robert Browning
(It would seem to be a glimpse from the
burning of Jacques du Bourg-Mulay, at Paris,
A. D. 1314; as distorted by the refraction from
Flemish brain to brain, during the course of
a couple of centuries.)
Inscribenda Luparae
© Andrew Marvell
Consurgit Luparae Dum non imitabile culmen,
Escuriale ingens uritur in vidia.
From Four Saints in Three Acts
© Gertrude Stein
Pigeons on the grass alas.
Pigeons on the grass alas.
The Lady of the Lake: Canto V. - The Combat
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light,
When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied,
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night
The Foundling
© Lola Ridge
About us are white cliffs and space.
No façades show,
Nor roof nor any spire…
All sheathed in snow…
The parasitic snow
That clings about them like a blight.
On Seeing Anthony, The Eldest Child Of Lord And Lady Ashley
© Caroline Norton
And seeing thee, thou lovely boy,
My soul, reproach'd, gave up its schemes
Of worldly triumph's heartless joy,
For purer and more sinless dreams,
And mingled in my farewell there
Something of blessing and of prayer.
A Description Of The Countreys Recreations
© Sir Henry Wotton
Quivering fears, Heart-tearing cares,
Anxious sighs, Untimely tears,
The Horseshoe Shrine
© Arun Kolatkar
That nick in the rock
is really a kick in the side of the hill.
It's where a hoof
struck
Misconstruction
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
HOW man misjudges man! the outward seeming,
Gesture, or glance, or utterance that may jar
Against some petty, pampered, poor conceit,
Unworthy, undefined, is straightway made
Wales Visitation
© Allen Ginsberg
White fog lifting & falling on mountain-brow
Trees moving in rivers of wind
The Story of the Man that went out Shooting
© Heinrich Hoffmann
This is the man that shoots the hares;
This is the coat he always wears:
With game-bag, powder-horn, and gun
He's going out to have some fun.
Lurline (Inscribed to Madame Lucy Escott.)
© Henry Kendall
As you glided and glided before us that time,
A mystical, magical maiden,
The Leaf-Cricket
© Madison Julius Cawein
I see thee quaintly
Beneath the leaf; thy shell-shaped winglets faintly-
(As thin as spangle
Of cobwebbed rain)-held up at airy angle;
I hear thy tinkle
With faery notes the silvery stillness sprinkle;
A Mi Prima Agueda
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Mi madrina invitaba a mi prima Agueda
A que pasara el día con nosotros,
Y mi prima llegaba
Con un contradictorio
Prestigio de almidón y de temible
Luto ceremonioso.
Oscar Of Alva: A Tale
© George Gordon Byron
How sweetly shines through azure skies,
The lamp of heaven on Lora's shore;
Where Alva's hoary turrets rise,
And hear the din of arms no more!