Art poems
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A Piccaninny.
© James Brunton Stephens
LO by the "humpy" door a smockless Venus!
Unblushing bronze, she shrinks not, having seen us,
The English Revolution Of 1848
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
HO ye that nothing have to lose! ho rouse ye, one and all!
Come from the sinks of the New Cut, the purlieus of Vauxhall!
The Princess And The Goblins
© Sylvia Plath
From fabrication springs the spiral stair
up which the wakeful princess climbs to find
the source of blanching light that conjured her
Lalla Ruk
© Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky
Dearest dream, my soul's enchantment
Lovely guest from heav'n above,
The First Lord's Song
© William Schwenck Gilbert
When I was a lad I served a term
As office boy to an Attorney's firm;
I cleaned the windows and I swept the floor,
And I polished up the handle of the big front door.
I polished up that handle so successfullee,
That now I am the Ruler of the Queen's Navee!
The Golden Age
© Alfred Austin
Nor this the worst! When ripened Shame would hide
Fruits of that hour when Passion conquered Pride,
There are not wanting in this Christian land
The breast remorseless and the Thuggish hand,
To advertise the dens where Death is sold,
And quench the breath of baby-life for gold!
Lines Written As A School Exercise At Hawkshead, Anno Aetatis 14
© William Wordsworth
"AND has the Sun his flaming chariot driven
Two hundred times around the ring of heaven,
Since Science first, with all her sacred train,
Beneath yon roof began her heavenly reign?
Niobe
© Robert Laurence Binyon
``Zeus, and ye Gods, that rule in heaven above,
Is there naught holy, or to your hard hearts dear?
Have ye forgotten utterly to love,
Or to be kind, in that untroubled sphere?
If aught ye cherish, still by that I pray,
Destroy the life that ye have cursed this day!
Arabian Night's Entertainments
© William Ernest Henley
Once on a time
There was a little boy: a master-mage
London Types: Hawker
© William Ernest Henley
Far out of bounds he'd figured-in a race
Of West-End traffic pitching to his loss.
Gotham - Book I
© Charles Churchill
Far off (no matter whether east or west,
A real country, or one made in jest,
The Centennial Year
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A Hundred years and she had sat, a queen
Sheltering her children, opening wide her gates
To all the inflowing tribes of earth. At first
Storms raged around her; but her stumbling feet
Bourke's Dream
© Anonymous
I dreamt I was homeward, back over the mountain track,
With joy my mother fainted and gave a loud scream.
With the shock I awoke, just as the day had broke,
And found myself an exile, and 'twas all but a dream.
A Sonnet (Two Voices Are There)
© James Kenneth Stephen
Two voices are there: one is of the deep;
It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody,
Le Roi Est Mort. Vive Le Roi!
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Why wait for Arthur? He too long has slept.
He shall not hear you--no, nor heed your moan,
More than the wail of those fair Queens that kept
Their watch for him what months in Avalon!
The Truce And The Peace
© Robinson Jeffers
(NOVEMBER, 1918)
Peace now for every fury has had her day,
The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia
© George Crabbe
Another term is past; ten other years
In various trials, troubles, views, and fears:
Of these some pass'd in small attempts at trade;
Houses she kept for widowers lately made;
For now she said, "They'll miss th' endearing
A Psalm Of Councel
© Joseph Furphy
Though some good folks may take it ill,
As trifling with parsonic frill,
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXXV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
At last I kneel in Rome, the bourne, the goal
Of what a multitude of laden hearts!
No pilgrim of them all a wearier soul
Brought ever here, no master of dark arts
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
