Poems begining by D

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Dream Song 109: She mentioned 'worthless' and he took it in

© John Berryman

She mentioned 'worthless' & he took it in,
degraded Henry, at the ebb of loveâ€”
O at the end of loveâ€”
in undershorts, with visitors, whereof
we can say their childlessness is ending. Love
finally took over,

Devoir Molluscule

© Scott Francis Reginald

Make small and hard,Make round, distinct and hardThese verities that hammer and intrudeUpon the careless fringes of the soul.O leave not these sharp grainsWithout their shell of luster and allure.

Daily Bread

© Reibetanz John

We have cried often when we have given them the little victualling wehad to give them; we had to shake them, and they have fallen to sleepwith the victuals in their mouths many a time

December

© Radford Dollie

No gardener need go far to find The Christmas rose,The fairest of the flowers that mark The sweet Year's close:Nor be in quest of places where The hollies grow,Nor seek for sacred trees that hold The mistletoe

Darwin

© Robert Norwood

Eternal night and solitude of space;Breath as of vapour crimsoning to flame;Far constellations moving in the sameInvariable order and the paceThat times the sun, or earth's elliptic raceAmong the planets: Life--dumb, blind and lame--Creeping from form to form, until her shameBlends with the beauty of a human face!

Death can not claim what Life so hardly wonOut of her ancient warfare with the Void--O Man! whose day is only now begun,Go forth with her and do what she hath done;Till thy last enemy--Death--be destroyed,And earth outshine the splendour of the sun

Depression

© Nicholls Marjory

My mind is like a wretched room, So bare, so drear;Dull with a heavy, ugly gloom, No light, no cheer.

Drake's Drum

© Newbolt Henry John

Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand mile away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?),Slung atween the round shot in Nombre Dios Bay, An' dreamin' arl the time o' Plymouth Hoe

Ding Dong Bell

© Mother Goose

Ding dong bell,The cat is in the well.Who put her in?Little Johnny Green.What a naughty boy was that,To drown poor Pussy cat.Who never did any harm,And kill'd the mice in his father's barn.

Dickery Dickery Dock

© Mother Goose

Dickery, dickery dock,The mouse ran up the clock;The clock struck one,The mouse ran down,Dickery, dickery dock.

Del Lu e de l'Aignel

© Marie de France

Ci dit del lu e de l'aignel,Ki beveient a un duitel

Dat Leetle Box

© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley

I leev' me turty year alone; Dat ees a lonely life--A bachelor, dat's wat dey call De man who has no wife.

Dies Irae

© Macaulay Thomas Babington

On that great, that awful day,This vain world shall pass away

Dark Satanic Mills

The dark, satanic mills of Blakehow much darker and more satanic they are now!But oh, the streams that stream white-faced, in and out,in and out when the hooter hoots, white-faced, with a dreadful gushof multitudinous ignominy,what shall we think of these?They are millions to my one!

They are millions to my one! But ohwhat have they done to you, white-faced millionsmewed and mangled in the mills of man?What have they done to you, what have they done to you,what is this awful aspect of man?

Oh Jesus, didn't you see, when you talked of servicethis would be the result!When you said: Retro me, Satanas!this is what you gave him leave to dobehind your back!

And now, the iron has entered into the souland the machine has entangled the brain, and got it fast,and steel has twisted the loins of man, electricity has exploded the heartand out of the lips of people jerk strange mechanical noises in place of speech

Drury-lane Prologue Spoken by Mr. Garrick at the Opening of the Theatre in Drury-Lane, 1747

When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foesFirst rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespear rose;Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:His pow'rful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast

Defeat

© Hyde Robin

But that was no defeat. Defeat, my friend,Is a simple thing, and past your understanding.Defeat is no cry in the night, no sudden bandingTogether of men beleaguered, no comrade glance at the end ...