Poems begining by B
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By Hut, Homestead And Shearing Shed,
© Henry Lawson
By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track-
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand-
By Candlelight
© Sylvia Plath
This is the fluid in which we meet each other,
This haloey radiance that seems to breathe
And lets our shadows wither
Only to blow
Them huge again, violent giants on the wall.
One match scratch makes you real.
Brock
© Charles Sangster
One voice, one people, one in heart
And soul and feeling and desire.
Re-light the smouldering martial fire
And sound the mute trumpet! Strike the lyre!
The hero dead cannot expire:
The dead still play their part.
"Behold Vale! I Said, When I Shall Con"
© William Wordsworth
"Beloved Vale!" I said, "when I shall con
Those many records of my childish years,
Before Actium.
© Robert Crawford
Life is up and takes the morning;
Why should love still lie abed?
Lo! the charms of slumber scorning,
Tramps the troop that must be led.
Birds
© Robinson Jeffers
The fierce musical cries of a couple of sparrowhawks hunting
on the headland,
Bayswater.W.
© Arthur Henry Adams
About me leagues of houses lie,
Above me, grim and straight and high,
They climb; the terraces lean up
Like long grey reefs against the sky.
Back-View
© William Ernest Henley
I watched you saunter down the sand:
Serene and large, the golden weather
Bob The Fiddler
© William Barnes
Oh! Bob the fiddler is the pride
O' chaps an' maïdens vur an' wide;
Bottom's Dream.
© Robert Crawford
Bottom's dream had no bottom; ours may, too,
Have no foundation. We may wake, indeed;
But all seems such a vision, none can say
(If aught's real) where reality begins.
Bell Birds
© Henry Kendall
By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
Before The End
© Madison Julius Cawein
How does the Autumn in her mind conclude
The tragic masque her frosty pencil writes,
Bryant
© James Whitcomb Riley
The harp has fallen from the master's hand;
Mute is the music, voiceless are the strings,
Betrothal Night
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THROUGH golden languors of low glimmering light,
Deep eyes, o'erbrimmed with passion's sacred wine,
Heart-perfumed tears--yearning towards me, shine
Like stars made lovelier by faint mists at night;
Breitmann In Holland. Amsterdam.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
TO Amsterd-m came Breitmann
All in de Kermes tide;
Yonge Maegden allegader
Filled de straat on afery side.
Book Of Timur - To Suleika
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
FITTING perfumes to prepare,
And to raise thy rapture high,
Birthday
© Lesbia Harford
I have a sister whom God gave to me;
He formed her out of trouble and the mists of the sea.
Like Aphrodite, she came to me full-grown.
Oh, I am blest forever with a sister of my own.
