Poems begining by B
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Bohemia
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Bohemia, o'er thy unatlassed borders
How many cross, with half-reluctant feet,
And unformed fears of dangers and disorders,
To find delights, more wholesome and more sweet
Than ever yet were known to the "elite."
Beyond
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
It seemeth such a little way to me
Across to that strange country the Beyond;
And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
The home of those whom I am so fond,
They make it seem familiar and most dear,
As journeying friends bring distant regions near.
Begin The Day
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Begin each morning with a talk to God,
And ask for your divine inheritance
Of usefulness, contentment, and success.
Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair.
Be Not Weary
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary,
And tired out with working long and well,
And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary,
And heart and soul are all too sick to tell,
By-And-Bye
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
By-and-bye, the maiden sighed by-and-bye
He will claim me for his bride,
Hope is strong and time is fleet;
Youth is fair, and love is sweet,
Clouds will pass that fleck my sky,
He will come back by-and-bye.
Bird Of Hope
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Soar not too high, O bird of Hope!
Because the skies are fair;
The tempest may come on apace
And overcome thee there.
Belphegor Addressed To Miss De Chammelay
© Jean de La Fontaine
NO hope of gaining such a charming fair,
Too soon, perhaps, I ceded to despair;
Your friend, was all I ventured to be thought,
Though in your net I more than half was caught.
Most willingly your lover I'd have been;
But time it is our story should be seen.
Beguiling
© Roger McGough
She is so beguiling
That when she beckons
I can run a mile
In twenty seconds.
Breaghy
© George William Russell
WHEN twilight flutters the mountains over,
The faery lights from the earth unfold:
And over the caves enchanted hover
The giant heroes and gods of old.
Babylon
© George William Russell
THE BLUE dusk ran between the streets: my love was winged within my mind,
It left to-day and yesterday and thrice a thousand years behind.
To-day was past and dead for me, for from to-day my feet had run
Through thrice a thousand years to walk the ways of ancient Babylon.
Benediction
© George William Russell
NOW the rooftree of the midnight spreading,
Buds in citron, green, and blue:
From afar its mystic odours shedding,
Child, on you.
By the Margin of the Great Deep
© George William Russell
WHEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies,
All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam
With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes;
I am one with the twilights dream.
Blindness
© George William Russell
OUR true hearts are forever lonely:
A wistfulness is in our thought:
Our lights are like the dawns which only
Seem bright to us and yet are not.
Brotherhood
© George William Russell
TWILIGHT, a blossom grey in shadowy valleys dwells:
Under the radiant dark the deep blue-tinted bells
In quietness reïmage heaven within their blooms,
Sapphire and gold and mystery. What strange perfumes,
Back From Australia
© John Betjeman
At home in Cornwall hurrying autumn skies
Leave Bray Hill barren, Stepper jutting bare,
And hold the moon above the sea-wet sand.
The very last of late September dies
In frosty silence and the hills declare
How vast the sky is, looked at from the land.
Business Girls
© John Betjeman
From the geyser ventilators
Autumn winds are blowing down
On a thousand business women
Having baths in Camden Town
Break Of Day
© John Donne
'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be?
O wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise? because 'tis light?
Did we lie down, because 'twas night?
Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep us together.
Because Her Heart Is Tender, for Beth
© Michael Burch
She scrawled soft words in soap: "Never Forget,"
Dove-white on her cars window, and the wren,
because her heart is tender, might regret
it called the sun to wake her. As I slept,
she heard lost names recounted, one by one.
Bound Home to Mount Song
© Wang Wei
The limpid river, past its bushes
Running slowly as my chariot,
Becomes a fellow voyager
Returning home with the evening birds.
Birds Calling in the Ravine
© Wang Wei
I'm idle, as osmanthus flowers fall,
This quiet night in spring, the hill is empty.
The moon comes out and startles the birds on the hill,
They don't stop calling in the spring ravine.
