Best poems
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Riddles By Dr. Swift And His Friends
© Jonathan Swift
FROM Venus born, thy beauty shows;
But who thy father, no man knows:
Nor can the skilful herald trace
The founder of thy ancient race;
The Bestiary: or Orpheuss Procession
© Guillaume Apollinaire
Admire the vital power
And nobility of line:
Its the voice that the light made us understand here
That Hermes Trismegistus writes of in Pimander.
Temple
© John Donne
With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe,
Joseph, turn back ; see where your child doth sit,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 05 - Infinite Worlds
© Lucretius
Once more, we all from seed celestial spring,
To all is that same father, from whom earth,
Tale X
© George Crabbe
It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence
Charity
© William Cowper
Fairest and foremost of the train that wait
On man's most dignified and happiest state,
Bahram The Hunter
© Robert Laurence Binyon
When Bahram rode to the chase,
Then saw ye his soul's delight
Full on his kingly face.
Who could his steed outpace?
The Wrath Of Loyalty
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
OCTOBER! tho' thy rugged brow,
No vivid wreaths entwine;
Tho' not for thee the zephyr blow,
Tho' not for thee the blossom glow,
Or skies unclouded shine:
Paracelsus: Part III: Paracelsus
© Robert Browning
Paracelsus.
Heap logs and let the blaze laugh out!
A Letter of Advice
© Winthrop Mackworth Praed
You tell me you're promised a lover,
My own Araminta, next week;
Sonnet XXXIX: Look, Delia
© Samuel Daniel
Look, Delia, how we 'steem the half-blown Rose,
The image of thy blush and Summer's honor,
To His Lady
© Thomas Carew
ASK me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauties' orient deep,
These flow'rs, as in their causes, sleep.
Paradise Lost : Book III.
© John Milton
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn,
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam
Reminiscence
© Padraic Colum
Recalling long ago. And she will hop
The inches of her crib, this narrow shop,
When you step in to be her customer:
A bird of little worth, a sparrow, say,
Whose crib's in such neglected passageway
That one's left wondering who brings crumbs to her.
Elegy VII. Anno Aetates Undevigesimo (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
As yet a stranger to the gentle fires
That Amathusia's smiling Queen inspires,
The Shepherds Calendar - December-Christmass
© John Clare
Christmass is come and every hearth
Makes room to give him welcome now
Een want will dry its tears in mirth
And crown him wi a holly bough
The Ballade of the Incompetent Ballade-Monger
© James Kenneth Stephen
Dear Sir, though my language is low,
Let me dip in Pierian pools:
My verses are only so so,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
