Art poems

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Mould and Vase [GREEK POTTERY OF AREZZO.]

© Edith Wharton

HERE in the jealous hollow of the mould,

Faint, light-eluding, as templed in the breast

A Vision of a Wrangler, of a University, of Pedantry, and of Philosophy

© James Clerk Maxwell

Deep St. Mary’s bell had sounded,

And the twelve notes gently rounded

Kissing Stieglitz Good-Bye

© Gerald Stern

Every city in America is approached
through a work of art, usually a bridge
but sometimes a road that curves underneath
or drops down from the sky. Pittsburgh has a tunnel—

Gareth And Lynette

© Alfred Tennyson

To whom the mother said,
'True love, sweet son, had risked himself and climbed,
And handed down the golden treasure to him.'

Faringdon Hill. Book II

© Henry James Pye

The sultry hours are past, and Phbus now

Spreads yellower rays along the mountain's brow:

The Slow Pacific Swell

© Yvor Winters

Far out of sight forever stands the sea,

Bounding the land with pale tranquillity.

Artificer

© Czeslaw Milosz

Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk
canvases, and he stops under the sky

Fifty-Fifty

© Franklin Pierce Adams

For something like eleven summers
I've written things that aimed to teach
Our careless mealy-mouthéd mummers
To be more sedulous of speech.

Farewell to London

© Alexander Pope

Dear, damn'd distracting town, farewell!
Thy fools no more I'll tease:
This year in peace, ye critics, dwell,
Ye harlots, sleep at ease!

Metamorphoses: Book The Thirteenth

© Ovid

The End of the Thirteenth Book.

Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands

Pharsalia - Book VI: The Fight Near Dyrhachium. Scaeva's Exploits. The Witch Of Thessalia.

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Now that the chiefs with minds intent on fight

Had drawn their armies near upon the hills

Translation Of Prior's Chloe And Euphelia

Mercator, vigiles oculos ut fallere possit,
Nomine sub ficto trans mare mittit opes;
Lenè sonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis,
Sed solam exoptant te, mea vota, Chloë.

The Repulse to Alcander

© Sarah Fyge

What is't you mean, that I am thus approach'd,

Dare you to hope, that I may be debauch'd?

The Columbiad: Book VI

© Joel Barlow

But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.