All Poems
/ page 521 of 3210 /
Correspondances (Correspondences)
© Charles Baudelaire
La Nature est un temple où de vivants piliers
Laissent parfois sortir de confuses paroles;
L'homme y passe à travers des forêts de symboles
Qui l'observent avec des regards familiers.
Friend In The Desolate Time
© Erik Johan Stagnelius
Friend, in the desolate time, when your soul is enshrouded in darkness
When, in a deep abyss, memory and feeling die out,
Phantom Or Fact? A Dialogue In Verse
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Friend.
This riddling Tale, to what does it belong?
Is't History? Vision? or an idle Song?
Or rather say at once, within what space
Of Time this wild disastrous change took place?
Fontana Di Trevi
© Alfred Austin
Why do I sit within the spell
Of eyes like thine, who oft have known
What 'tis in Beauty's gaze to dwell,
And then-to feel alone:
Back be remitted to my cell,
Too lately near a throne?
The Cornelian
© George Gordon Byron
No specious splendour of this stone
Endears it to my memory ever;
With lustre only once it shone,
And blushes modest as the giver.
Murdering Beauty
© Thomas Carew
I'LL gaze no more on her bewitching face,
Since ruin harbours there in every place ;
The Doctor Of Geneva
© Wallace Stevens
The doctor of Geneva stamped the sand
That lay impounding the Pacific swell,
Patted his stove-pipe hat and tugged his shawl.
The Wedding Dance In The Open Air
© William Carlos Williams
Disciplined by the artist
to go round
and round
The Marriage Of A Princess
© Confucius
In the magpie's nest
Dwells the dove at rest.
This young bride goes to her future home;
To meet her a hundred chariots come.
Clouds Of The Autumn Night
© Madison Julius Cawein
Clouds of the autumn night,
Under the hunter's moon,--
Ghostly and windy white,--
Whither, like leaves wild strewn,
Take ye your stormy flight?
Beyond the Sea
© Thomas Love Peacock
Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.
Retrospection
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
WHEN you and I were young, the days
Were filled with scent of pink and rose,
By Moschus
© William Cowper
I slept when Venus enter'd: to my bed
A Cupid in her beauteous hand she led,
Instinct
© Cesare Pavese
From the door of his house in the gentle sunshine
the old man, disillusioned with everything,
watches the dog and the bitch as they follow instinct.
The Loons
© Archibald Lampman
And now, though many hundred altering years
Have passed, among the desolate northern meres
Still must ye search and wander querulously,
Crying for Glooscap, still bemoan the light
With weird entreaties, and in agony
With awful laughter pierce the lonely night.
The Happy Man
© James Thomson
He's not the happy man, to whom is given
A plenteous fortune by indulgent Heaven;
