Poems begining by B
/ page 64 of 94 /Ballade Of The Dream
© Andrew Lang
Sleep, that giv'st what Life denies,
Shadowy bounties and supreme,
Bring the dearest face that flies
Following darkness like a dream!
Belisarius. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I am poor and old and blind;
The sun burns me, and the wind
Blows through the city gate
And covers me with dust
From the wheels of the august
Justinian the Great.
Ballade Of A Toyokuni Colour-Print
© William Ernest Henley
Dear, 'twas a dozen lives ago;
But that I was a lucky man
The Toyokuni here will show:
I loved you--once--in old Japan.
Birds of Prey
© Claude McKay
Their shadow dims the sunshine of our day,
As they go lumbering across the sky,
Squawking in joy of feeling safe on high,
Beating their heavy wings of owlish gray.
Baptism
© Claude McKay
Into the furnace let me go alone;
Stay you without in terror of the heat.
I will go naked in--for thus ''tis sweet--
Into the weird depths of the hottest zone.
Beautiful Lofty Things
© William Butler Yeats
BEAUTIFUL lofty things: O'Leary's noble head;
My father upon the Abbey stage, before him a raging crowd:
Brockley Coomb
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Lines composed while climbing the left ascent of Brockley Coomb, May 1795With many a pause and oft reverted eye
I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near
Warble in shade their wild-wood melody:
Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear.
Back To The Machine Gun
© Charles Bukowski
the young housewife next door shakes a rug
out of her window and sees me:
"hello, Hank!"
Beauty. Part II
© Henry James Pye
Of all that Nature's rural prospects yield,
The chrystal fountain and the flow'ry field,
Ballad
© Eustache Deschamps
Here is no flower, no violet e'er so sweet,
Nor tree, nor brier, whatever charms they show, Beauty nor worth where all perfections meet,
No man, nor woman, though her fate bestow
Bright locks, fair skin, cheeks that like roses glow,
Or wise or foolish nought by nature made,
Which length of time shall age not, and degrade, But the fierce hunter death shall hold in chase, And which, when old, the world will not upbraid: Old age ends all, in youth alone is grace.
Birth And Death.
© Robert Crawford
I who have known thee, Birth, must know Death too:
As old, old men their children's children fold
In their gaunt arms, and though their blood be cold
Feel their own youth burn in them as they view
Beowulf's Expedition To Heort
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus then, much care-worn,
The son of Healfden
Banner Of Men Who Were Free
© Edgar Lee Masters
Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.
Blackcurrant River
© Arthur Rimbaud
Blackcurrant river rolls unknown in strange valleys;
the voices of a hundred rooks go with it,
the true benevolent voice of angles:
with the wide movements of the fir woods
when several winds sweep down.
Between Ghent And Bruges
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
AH yes, exactly so; but when a man
Has trundled out of England into France
Back Home
© Vladimir Mayakovsky
Thoughts, go your way home.
Embrace,
depths of the soul and the sea.
In my view,
Bruise blue
© Dale Harcombe
Frail as smoke, she drifts
through the crowded train,
bringing with her
the cold ashes of poverty.
Brass Kaleidoscope
© Dale Harcombe
I had a kaleidoscope once.
Sometimes
I still see oblique patterns.