Poems begining by D
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Delusion Of Saints
© Robinson Jeffers
The old pagan burials, uninscribed rock,
Secret-keeping mounds,
Darrynane
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Where foams the white torrent, and rushes the rill,
Down the murmuring slopes of the echoing hill-
Destiny
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Three roses, wan as moonlight, and weighed down
Each with its loveliness as with a crown,
Drooped in a florist's window in a town.
Dirge
© Charles Stuart Calverley
"Dr. Birch's young friends will reassemble to-day, Feb. 1st."
White is the wold, and ghostly
The dank and leafless trees;
And 'M's and 'N's are mostly
Dedication
© Tadeusz Borowski
Staszek, my old friend,
from all the prisons of the earth
I come back to you
in a flight of poetry.
Dream Song 172
© John Berryman
Your face broods from my table, Suicide.
Your force came on like a torrent toward the end
of agony and wrath.
You were christened in the beginning Sylvia Plath
and changed that name for Mrs Hughes and bred
and went on round the bend
Doing Nothing
© Roderic Quinn
WITH the sorrow on me
Neighbours come and go
Think me vain and foolish
Nursing up my woe.
Depuis six mille ans la guerre
© Victor Marie Hugo
Depuis six mille ans la guerre
Plait aux peuples querelleurs,
Et Dieu perd son temps à faire
Les étoiles et les fleurs.
De Wet
© Jessie Pope
Foe and friend and foe again,
Turning coat and turning yet,
That's a feat you don't disdain,
De Wet.
Divine Love Endures No Rival
© William Cowper
Love is the Lord whom I obey,
Whose will transported I perform;
The centre of my rest, my stay,
Love's all in all to me, myself a worm.
Dedication
© John Keble
When in my silent solitary walk,
I sought a strain not all unworthy Thee,
My heart, still ringing with wild worldly talk,
Gave forth no note of holier minstrelsy.
Distant Rainfall
© Robinson Jeffers
Like mourning women veiled to the feet
Tall slender rainstorms walk slowly against gray cloud along the
Doubt Heralding Vision
© George MacDonald
An angel saw me sitting by a brook,
Pleased with the silence, and the melodies
Duniya Mein Kaun
© Khwaja Mir Dard
Duniya mein kaun kaun na yak baar ho gaya,
Par munh phir is tarf na kiya us ne jo gaya.
Phirti hai meri khaak saba dar-b-dar liye,
Ai chashm-e-ashkbaar yeh kya tujh ko ho gaya.
Driving Through by Mark Vinz: American Life in Poetry #91 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
How many of us, when passing through some small town, have felt that it seemed familiar though we've never been there before. And of course it seems familiar because much of the course of life is pretty much the same wherever we go, right down to the up-and-down fortunes of the football team and the unanswered love letters. Here's a poem by Mark Vinz.
Driving Through
Donacha Rua
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Donacha rua of Donegal,
(Holy Mary, how slow the dawn!)
This is the hour of your loss or gain
Is go d-tigeadh tu mo mhúirnin slán!
Doomsday
© Sylvia Plath
The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans
Atop the broken universal clock:
The hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.
Out painted stages fall apart by scenes
While all the actors halt in mortal shock:
The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leans.
Dara
© James Russell Lowell
When Persia's sceptre trembled in a hand
Wilted with harem-heats, and all the land
Was hovered over by those vulture ills
That snuff decaying empire from afar,
Then, with a nature balanced as a star,
Dara arose, a shepherd of the hills.
Danksagung
© Stefan Anton George
Die sommerwiese dürrt von arger flamme.
Auf einem uferpfad zertretnen klees
