Poems begining by B

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By The Seaside : The Evening Star

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lo! in the painted oriel of the West,

Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines,

Bulla Ki Jana Main Kaun

© Bulleh Shah

Na main moman vich maseetan
Na main vich kufar dian reetan
Na main pakan vich paleetan

Bayonet Song

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

For till you show me the Sacred Word
I'm for Peter and his good sword,
Only I hope if we'd drilled him here
He'd not have missed the head for the ear.

Bo-beh-o-bi Sang The Lips

© Velimir Khlebnikov

Bo-beh-o-bi, sang the lips,

Veh-eh-o-mi, sang the glances,

Barbarians.

© Robert Crawford

As the crinoid star-fish to the sea-base
By his stem fixed draws bare subsistence in
His straitened sphere, as in the sunless ooze
He turns on his long jointed pedicle,

Ballade Of Ancient Acts

© Franklin Pierce Adams

Prince, though our children laugh "Ho! Ho!"
At us who gleefully would fall
For acts that played the Long Ago,
Into the night go one and all.

By The Sea.

© Robert Crawford

The heat is on the sea, and Noon
Has hushed the sounds upon the shore;
There is a silence evermore
That with the heart is so in tune

Burnt out is now my misery--
love's yearning
No more unspeakably torments my heart,
Yet bearable alone through thee, my being--
All thou art not is idle, stale and dying,
Colourless, withered, dead,--save where thou art!

"Behold! I am not one that goes to Lectures"

© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch

Behold! I am not one that goes to Lectures or the pow-wow of
Professors.
The elementary laws never apologise: neither do I apologise.
I find letters from the Dean dropt on my tableand every one is

Boadicea. An Ode

© William Cowper

When the British warrior queen,

Bleeding from the Roman rods,

Bread And Milk For Breakfast

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

Bread and milk for breakfast,
And woollen frocks to wear,
And a crumb for robin redbreast
On the cold days of the year.

Bring Perfumes Sweet To Me

My heart threw back the veil of woe,
Consoled by Hafiz melody:
From out the street of So-and-So,
Oh wind, bring perfumes sweet to me!

Beauty

And yet your beauty breeds a strange despair,
And pang of yearning in the helpless heart;
To shield you from time's fraying wear and tear,
That from yourself yourself would wrench apart,
How save you, fairest, but to set you where
Mortality kills death in deathless art?

Bereft.

FOR nine drear nights my darling has been dead;
And ah, dear God! I cannot dream of her!
Now I shall see her always lying white
A frozen flower beneath a snow of flowers,

"Back To The Army Again"

I'm 'ere in a ticky ulster an' a broken billycock 'at,
A-layin' on to the sergeant I don't know a gun from a bat;
My shirt's doin' duty for jacket, my sock's stickin' out o' my boots,
An' I'm learnin' the damned old goose-step along o' the new recruits!