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Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXXV
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchangeAnd be all to me? Shall I never missHome-talk and blessing and the common kissThat comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,When I look up, to drop on a new rangeOf walls and floors, another home than this?Nay, wilt thou fill that place by me which isFilled by dead eyes too tender to know change?That's hardest
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XXV
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A heavy heart, Belovèd, have I borneFrom year to year until I saw thy face,And sorrow after sorrow took the placeOf all those natural joys as lightly wornAs the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turnBy a beating heart at dance-time
Sonnets from the Portuguese: XIV
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for noughtExcept for love's sake only
Sonnets from the Portuguese: VII
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The face of all the world is changed, I think,Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soulMove still, oh, still, beside me, as they stoleBetwixt me and the dreadful outer brinkOf obvious death, where I, who thought to sink,Was caught up into love, and taught the wholeOf life in a new rhythm
Opifex
© Brown Thomas Edward
As I was carving images from clouds, And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:--"Forbear!" and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds.
A Vision out West
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Far reaching down's a solid sea sunk everlastingly to rest,And yet whose billows seem to be for ever heaving toward the westThe tiny fieldmice make their nests, the summer insects buzz and humAmong the hollows and the crests of this wide ocean stricken dumb,Whose rollers move for ever on, though sullenly, with fettered wills,To break in voiceless wrath upon the crumbled bases of far hills,Where rugged outposts meet the shock, stand fast, and hurl them back again,An avalanche of earth and rock, in tumbled fragments on the plain;But, never heeding the rebuff, to right and left they kiss the feetOf hanging cliff and bouldered bluff till on the farther side they meet,And once again resume their march to where the afternoon sun dipsToward the west, and Heaven's arch salutes the Earth with ruddy lips
How Polly Paid for her Keep
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why, damme!You might as well ask if I know my own name!It's a wonder you never heard tell of old Sammy,Her father, my mate in the Crackenback claim.
The Demon Snow-shoes
© Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
The snow lies deep on hill and dale,In rocky gulch and grassy vale:The tiny, trickling, tumbling fallsAre frozen 'twixt their rocky wallsThat grey and brown look silent downUpon Kiandra's shrouded town
On the Shortness of Time
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
If I could live without the thought of death,Forgetful of time's waste, the soul's decay,I would not ask for other joy than breath,With light and sound of birds and the sun's ray
History
© Blodgett E. D.
When we are old, our eyes will open wide and everything we knewwill exit through them, standing here and there, domestic order oftables, chairs and bed making room for what we are -- a rosethat passed between our hands will flower there, a place where wewere walking in a change of light, a star that we had shared when wewere far apart -- and we will gaze upon them, moving through our eyes
Oh, Dem Golden Slippers!
© Bland James A.
Oh, my golden slippers am laid away,Kase I don't 'spect to wear 'em till my weddin' day,And my long-tail'd coat, dat I loved so well,I will wear up in de chariot in de morn;And my long, white robe dat I bought last June,I'm gwine to get changed kase it fits too soon,And de ole grew hoss dat I used to drive,I will hitch him up to de chariot in de morn
London I
© Bell Julian Heward
The melancholy verse Sings to the waterfall; Wring writing harsh and worse, The jarring beauties fall.
The Jackaw of Rheims
© Richard Harris Barham
The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there; Many a monk, and many a friar, Many a knight, and many a squire,With a great many more of lesser degree,--In sooth a goodly company;And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee
Heart Test with an Echo Chamber
© Margaret Atwood
Wired up at the ankles and one wrist,a wet probe rolling over my skin,I see my heart on a screenlike a rubber bulb or a soft fig, but larger,
Stay with Me, God
© Anonymous
Stay with me, God. The night is dark,The night is cold: my little sparkOf courage dies. The night is long;Be with me, God, and make me strong.
The Laily Worm and the Mackerel of the Sea
© Anonymous
"I was bat seven year alld Fan my mider she did dee,My father marr{.e}d the ae warst woman The wardle did ever see.
