Poems begining by B
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Birthday Verses
© James Russell Lowell
'Twas sung of old in hut and hall
How once a king in evil hour
Hung musing o'er his castle wall,
And, lost in idle dreams, let fall
Into the sea his ring of power.
Beatrice To Dante
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
REGARD me well: I am thy love, thy love;
Thy blessing, thy delight, thy hope, thy peace:
Thy joy above all joys that break and cease
When their full waves in widest circles move:
Before The Tomb
© Madison Julius Cawein
The way went under cedared gloom
To moonlight, like a cactus bloom,
Before the entrance of her tomb.
be-KHudee le ga'ee kahaaN ham ko
© Meer Taqi Meer
jisko tum aasmaan kahate ho
so diloN kaa Gubaar hai apnaa
Belly Good
© Marge Piercy
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs
but I've never seen wheat in a pile.
Apples, potatoes, cabbages, carrots
make lumpy stacks, but you are sleek
Barbie Doll
© Marge Piercy
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
Bones
© Walter de la Mare
Said Mr. Smith, I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones
The most peculiar pain Im in
I think its in my bones.
Berenda Slough
© Philip Levine
Earth and water without form,
change, or pause: as if the third
day had not come, this calm norm
of chaos denies the Word.
Black Stone On Top Of Nothing
© Philip Levine
Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon
around the apartment building covering the front door.
He puts down his cane, removes his greasy fedora, and begins
to untangle the mess. His neighbors line up behind him
Belle Isle, 1949
© Philip Levine
We stripped in the first warm spring night
and ran down into the Detroit River
to baptize ourselves in the brine
of car parts, dead fish, stolen bicycles,
Bitterness
© Philip Levine
Here in February, the fine
dark branches of the almond
begin to sprout tiny clusters
of leaves, sticky to the touch.
Brignall Banks
© Sir Walter Scott
'O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green!
I'd rather rove with Edmund there
Than reign our English Queen.'
Border Ballad
© Sir Walter Scott
March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,
Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order!
March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,
All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
Bonny Dundee
© Sir Walter Scott
Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street,
The bells are rung backward, the drums they are beat;
But the Provost, douce man, said, Just een let him be,
The Gude Town is weel quit of that Deil of Dundee.
Come fill up my cup, etc.
By That Lake, Whose Gloomy Shore
© Thomas Moore
By that Lake, whose gloomy shore
Sky-lark never warbles o'er,
Where the cliff hangs high and steep,
Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep.
