All Poems
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A Las Virgenes
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
¡Oh vírgenes rebeldes y sumisas:
convertidme en el fiel reclinatorio
de vuestros oídos y vuestras sonrisas
y en la fragua sangrienta del holgorio
en que quieren quemarse vuestras prisas!…
The Meeting
© Sara Teasdale
I'm happy, I'm happy,
I saw my love to-day.
He came along the crowded street,
By all the ladies gay,
Singing Children
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
IN the streets of Bethlehem sang the children
So merry and so shrill,
Une Feuille Morte
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Je rêve debout devant la porte
Qui vient de se fermer sur moi.
Je colle mes yeux en triste sorte
Sur ce carré de sombre bois.
A Phylactery
© John Hay
Wise men I hold those rakes of old
Who, as we read in antique story,
When lyres were struck and wine was poured,
Set the white Death's Head on the board--
Memento mori.
To ---, Written At Venice
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Not only through the golden haze
Of indistinct surprise,
With which the Ocean--bride displays
Her pomp to stranger eyes;--
She Walks In Beauty
© George Gordon Byron
She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
Two Viewpoints
© Edgar Albert Guest
OUT in the open, the wide sky above,
And the green meadows stretched at my feet;
Christmas Night by Conrad Hilberry: American Life in Poetry #195 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004
© Ted Kooser
Here is a poem, much like a prayer, in which the Michigan poet Conrad Hilberry asks for no more than a little flare of light, an affirmation, at the end of a long, cold Christmas day.
Christmas Night
Let midnight gather up the wind
and the cry of tires on bitter snow.
Let midnight call the cold dogs home,
sleet in their furâlast one can blow
An Ode To The King, At His Returning From Scotland To The Queen, After His Coronation There
© Sir Henry Wotton
Rouse up thy self, my gentle Muse,
Though now our green conceits be gray,
And yet once more do not refuse
To take thy Phrygian Harp, and play
In honour of this chearful Day.
Deux voix dans le ciel
© Victor Marie Hugo
(extrait)
Le bleu matin dorait l'herbe dans les fossés ;
Les froids tombeaux, devant le porche de l'église,
Dormaient. Au coin du bois Pierre rencontra Lise,
A Choice
© Edith Nesbit
THE flood of utter change is loosed. A space
Is ours yet, for its coming to prepare.
To My Lord Buckhurst, Very Young, Playing With A Cat
© Matthew Prior
The amorous youth, whose tender breast
Was by his darling Cat possest,
Windows
© Charles Baudelaire
Looking from outside into an open window one never sees as much as when one looks through a closed window.
There is nothing more profound, more mysterious, more pregnant, more insidious, more dazzling than a window lighted by a single candle.
What one can see out in the sunlight is always less interesting than what goes on behind a windowpane.
In that black or luminous square life lives, life dreams, life suffers.
In August
© Katharine Lee Bates
BESIDE the country road with truant grace
Wild carrot lifts its circles of white lace.
Time
© Jones Very
There is no moment but whose flight doth bring
Bright clouds and fluttering leaves to deck my bower;
Striking
© Charles Stuart Calverley
It was a railway passenger,
And he lept out jauntilie.
"Now up and bear, thou stout porter,
My two chattels to me.
