Art poems
/ page 43 of 137 /Poema De Vejez y De Amor
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
A veces, en los ámbitos desiertos
de los viejos salones,
cuando dialogas con la voz anciana,
se oye también, sonora maravilla,
tu clara voz, como la campanilla
de las litúrgicas elevaciones.
To Her Portrait
© Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
'Tis but vain artifice of scheming minds;
'Tis but a flower fading on the winds;
'Tis but a useless protest against Fate;
'Tis but stupidity without a thought,
A lifeless shadow, if we meditate;
'Tis death, tis dust, tis shadow, yea, 'tis nought.
Hymne
© André Marie de Chénier
SUR L'ENTRÉE TRIOMPHALE
DES SUISSES RÉVOLTÉS ET AMNISTIÉS DU RÉGIMENT
DE CHATEAUVIEUX
On Sending My Son, As A Present, To Dr. Swift, Dean Of St. Patrick's, On His Birth--Day.
© Mary Barber
A richer Present I design,
A finish'd Form, of Work divine,
Surpassing all the Power of Art,
A thinking Head, and grateful Heart,
An Heart, that hopes, one Day, to show
How much we to the Drapier owe.
The Isles Of Greece
© George Gordon Byron
The mountains look on Marathon-
And Marathon looks on the sea;
And musing there an hour alone,
I dreamed that Greece might still be free;
For standing on the Persians' grave,
I could not deem myself a slave.
The Past
© William Cullen Bryant
Thou unrelenting Past!
Strong are the barriers round thy dark domain,
And fetters, sure and fast,
Hold all that enter thy unbreathing reign.
The Believer's Safety
© John Newton
Incarnate God! the soul that knows
Thy name's mysterious power
Shall dwell in undisturbed repose,
Nor fear the trying hour.
The First American Congress
© Joel Barlow
Columbus looked; and still around them spread,
From south to north, th' immeasurable shade;
Epitaph, Intended For Himself
© James Beattie
Escaped the gloom of mortal life, a soul
Here leaves its mouldering tenement of clay,
Safe where no cares their whelming billows roll,
No doubts bewilder, and no hopes betray.
Poems Of Joys
© Walt Whitman
O to make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
Full of common employments! full of grain and trees.
Laodamia
© William Wordsworth
O terror! what hath she perceived?-O joy!
What doth she look on?-whom doth she behold?
Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence? his corporeal mould?
It is-if sense deceive her not-'tis He!
And a God leads him, wingèd Mercury!
Alfred. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
He ceasedbut still the accents of his tongue
Persuasive, on the attentive hearers hung:
The monarch and his warlike thanes around
Still listening sat, in silent wonder bound.
An Horation Ode Upon Cromwell's Return From Ireland
© Andrew Marvell
The forward Youth that would appear
Must now forsake his Muses dear,
Nor in the Shadows sing
His Numbers languishing.
The Turtle And Sparrow. An Elegiac Tale
© Matthew Prior
Stretch'd on the bier Columbo lies,
Pale are his cheeks, and closed his eyes;
Those eyes, where beauty smiling lay,
Those eyes, where Love was used to play;
Ah! cruel Fate, alas how soon
That beauty and those joys are flown!