Birthday poems
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To The Memory Of Mrs. Lefroy Who Died Dec: 16 -- My Birthday.
© Jane Austen
Angelic Woman! past my power to praise
In Language meet, thy Talents, Temper, mind.
Thy solid Worth, they captivating Grace!-
Thou friend and ornament of Humankind!-
The Vigil Of Venus
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Tunc liquore de superno spumeo et ponti globo,
Cærulas inter catervas, inter et bipedes equos,
Fecit undantem Dionen de maritis imbribus.
Cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quiqiie amavit cras amet.
An Old Lament Renewed
© Vernon Scannell
The soil is savoury with their bones' lost marrow;
Down among dark roots their polished knuckles lie,
And no one could tell one peeled head from another;
Earth packs each crater that once gleamed with eye.
Riley
© Madison Julius Cawein
His Birthday, October the 7th, 1912
RILEY, whose pen has made the world your debtor,
To Hon. R.G.H. Upon His 78th Birthday
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
CLOSE to the verge of fourscore crowded years
Your heart is strong, your soul serene and bright;
As when confronting first life's hopes and fears--
The star of manhood crowned your brow with light.
The Men Who Made Australia
© Henry Lawson
There'll be royal times in Sydney for the Cuff and Collar Push,
Therell be lots of dreary drivel and clap-trap
Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth
© George Gordon Byron
If from great nature's or our own abyss
Of thought we could but snatch a certainty,
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 05
© Torquato Tasso
LXIV
"For lo a knight, that had a gate to ward,
R.s.v.p.
© Franklin Pierce Adams
Phyllis, I've a keg of fine fermented grape juice,
Alban wine that's been nine years in the cellar.
Ivy chaplets? Sure. Also, in the garden,
Plenty of parsley.
A Poets Eightieth Birthday
© Alfred Austin
``He dieth young whom the Gods love,'' was said
By Greek Menander; nor alone by One
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XLV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Do you remember how I laughed at you
In the Beaulieu woods, and how I made my peace?
It was your thirtieth birthday, and you threw
A Birthday Present
© Sylvia Plath
What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?
The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice
© William Wordsworth
O NOW that the genius of Bewick were mine,
And the skill which he learned on the banks of the Tyne.
Then the Muses might deal with me just as they chose,
For I'd take my last leave both of verse and of prose.
The Nuts Birthday
© Jessie Pope
When Gilberts birthday came last spring,
Oh! How our brains were racked
Don Juan: Canto The Third
© George Gordon Byron
The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.
In an Almshouse
© Augusta Davies Webster
They said you were not pretty, owed your charm
to choice of ribbons from your father's shop,
but, as for me, I saw not if you wore
too many ribbons or too few, nor sought
what charms you had beyond that one I knew,
the kind and honest look in your grey eyes.
O'Connell
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
So let the verse in echoing accents ring,
So proudly sing,
With intermittent wail,
The nation's dead, but sceptred King,
The glory of the Gael.
