Age poems
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The Columbiad: Book X
© Joel Barlow
From that mark'd stage of man we now behold,
More rapid strides his coming paths unfold;
His continents are traced, his islands found,
His well-taught sails on all his billows bound,
His varying wants their new discoveries ply,
And seek in earth's whole range their sure supply.
For the Union Dead
© Robert Lowell
The old South Boston Aquarium stands
in a Sahara of snow now. Its broken windows are boarded.
The bronze weathervane cod has lost half its scales.
The airy tanks are dry.
The Prophecy Of St. Oran: Part I
© Mathilde Blind
"Earth, earth on the mouth of Oran, that he may blab no more." Gaelic Proverb.
Sonnets Of The Blood VII
© Allen Tate
This message hastens lest we both go down
Scattered, with no character, to death;
The Improvisatore
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.--EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
Two Visions
© Alfred Austin
The curtains of the Night were folded
Over suspended sense;
So that the things I saw were moulded
I know not how nor whence.
Ode
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
O tenderly the haughty day
Fills his blue urn with fire;
One morn is in the mighty heaven,
And one in our desire.
Fears In Solitude
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
[Image][Image][Image][Image][Image] May my fears,
My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.
Painexpands the Time
© Emily Dickinson
Painexpands the Time
Ages coil within
The minute Circumference
Of a single Brain
The Broadstone
© Robinson Jeffers
NEAR FINVOY, COUNTY ANTRIM
We climbed by the old quarries to the wide highland of heath,
The Two Peacocks of Bedfont
© Thomas Hood
I
Alas! That breathing Vanity should go
Where Pride is buried,like its very ghost,
Uprisen from the naked bones below,
Moonrise Over Tyringham
© Edith Wharton
Now the high holocaust of hours is done,
And all the west empurpled with their death,
How swift oblivion drinks the fallen sun,
How little while the dusk remembereth!
Dream Song 3: A Stimulant for an Old Beast
© John Berryman
All these old criminals sooner or later
have had it. I've been reading old journals.
Gottwald & Co., out of business now.
Thick chests quit. Double agent, Joe.
She holds her breath like a seal
and is whiter & smoother.
Past One OClock ...
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Past one oclock. You must have gone to bed.
The Milky Way streams silver through the night.
Im in no hurry; with lightning telegrams
I have no cause to wake or trouble you.
At the Top of My voice
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Professor,
take off your bicycle glasses!
I myself will expound
those times
and myself.
To All and Everything
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Above the capitals madness
I raised my face,
stern as the faces of ancient icons.
Sorrow-rent,
on your body as on a death-bed, its days
my heart ended.
The Star-Splitter
© Robert Frost
We've looked and looked, but after all where are we?
Do we know any better where we are,
And how it stands between the night tonight
And a man with a smoky lantern chimney?
How different from the way it ever stood?
The Grindstone
© Robert Frost
Having a wheel and four legs of its own
Has never availed the cumbersome grindstone
To get it anywhere that I can see.
These hands have helped it go, and even race;
