Poems begining by B
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Before
© William Ernest Henley
Behold me waiting-waiting for the knife.
A little while, and at a leap I storm
Ballade Of Autumn
© Andrew Lang
Lady, my home until I die
Is here, where youth and hope were slain:
They flit, the ghosts of our July,
My Love returns no more again!
Blue Arab
© Judith Wright
The small blue Arab stallion dances on the hill
like a glancing breaker, like a storm rearing in the sky,
In his prick-ears,the wind, that wanderer and spy,
sings of the dunes of Arabia, lion-coloured still.
Business
© Sam Walter Foss
"How is business?" asks the young man of the Spirit of the Years;
"Tell me of the modern output from the factories of fate,
And what jobs are waiting for me, waiting for me and my peers.
What's the outlook? What's the prospect? Are the wages small or great?"
Blooms Of May
© James Whitcomb Riley
But yesterday!...
O blooms of May,
And summer roses--Where-away?
O stars above,
And lips of love
And all the honeyed sweets thereof!
Beauty
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I think of a flower that no eye ever has seen,
That springs in a solitary air.
Is it no one's joy? It is beautiful as a queen
Without a kingdom's care.
Breitmann In Holland. Scheveningen, Or De Maidens Coorse
© Charles Godfrey Leland
HET vas Mijn Heer van Torenborg,
Ride oud oopon de sand,
Und vait to hear a paardeken;
Coom tromplin from de land.
Bongaloo
© Spike Milligan
"What is a Bongaloo, Daddy?"
"A Bongaloo, Son," said I,
"Is a tall bag of cheese
Plus a Chinaman's knees
And the leg of a nanny goat's eye."
Battle Of Charleston Harbor, April 7, 1863
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
TWO hours, or more, beyond the prime of a blithe April day,
The Northmen's mailed "Invincibles" steamed up fair Charleston Bay;
They came in sullen file, and slow, low-breasted on the wave,
Black as a midnight front of storm, and silent as the grave.
Batuschka
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
From yonder gilded minaret
Beside the steel-blue Neva set,
I faintly catch, from time to time,
The sweet, aerial midnight chime-
"God save the Tsar!"
Bee-Master
© Victoria Mary Sackville-West
I have known honey from the Syrian hills
Stored in cool jars; the wild acacia there
Ballad Of The Armada
© Henry Austin Dobson
GLORIANA! the Don may attack us
Whenever his stomach be fain;
He must reach us before he can rack us, -
And where are the galleons of Spain?
Bid McCrae
© Alice Guerin Crist
The church was wrapped in darkness save for the alter-light,
And save where near the marble rail six tapers glimmered bright
Oer waxen heavy-scented flowers and coffin plated deep,
Where the good wife, Mary Halloran lay in her last long sleep.
Blind Sorrow
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
One bitter time of mourning, I remember,
When day, and night, my sad heart did complain,
My life, I said, was one cold, bleak December,
And all its pleasures, were but whited pain.
Battle Song
© Patrick Barrington
There's havoc on the staircase where the guests come streaming,
Shirt-fronts shining and tiaras gleaming,
Booz Endormi
© Victor Marie Hugo
Booz s'était couché de fatigue accablé ;
Il avait tout le jour travaillé dans son aire ;
Puis avait fait son lit à sa place ordinaire ;
Booz dormait auprès des boisseaux pleins de blé.
Bruce and the Abbot
© Sir Walter Scott
The Abbot on the threshold stood,
And in his hand the holy rood:
