Poems begining by E

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Elements of Composition

© A. K. Ramanujan

Composed as I am, like others,
  of elements on certain well-known lists,
father's seed and mother's egg

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Envoi

© Ezra Pound

Go, dumb-born book,

Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:

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Eugenia Todd

© Edgar Lee Masters

Have any of you, passers-by,

Had an old tooth that was an unceasing discomfort?

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Eye and Tooth

© Robert Lowell

My whole eye was sunset red,
the old cut cornea throbbed,
I saw things darkly,
as through an unwashed goldfish globe.

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Every Dead One Has a Name

© Taja Kramberger

A decade ago,
a high-ranking party official warned me:
Stay a poet, as long as there’s still time.
Still time? Time for what?

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Evening Star

© Mihai Eminescu

There was, as in the fairy tales,
As ne'er in the time's raid,
There was, of famous royal blood
A most beautiful maid.

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Etchings II: In the Bar

© Wratislaw Theodore William Graf

A hand that twists the broidered veilAbove the drooping flower-red mouthUpon the straight and delicate nose,And, gloveless, one, snow-white and frail,Whereon a glittering emerald glowsThat lifts a tumbler to your mouth:

Soft eyes that throw a languid glanceAcross the golden blazing bar,And leave a weary smile with me:Ah, who can tell the ways of chance,Or why to-night divided weExchange bored smiles across the bar?

But age who sits beside you knowsHis worth, and by the right of goldIs claimant of your charms to-night;While youth takes up a distant poseAnd watches you from far in flightBefore the majesty of gold

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Elegiac Stanzas Suggested by a Picture of Peele Castle in a Storm, Painted by Sir George Beaumont

© William Wordsworth

I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:I saw thee every day; and all the whileThy Form was sleeping on a glassy sea.

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Echoes from the Greek Anthology

© Henry Van Dyke

I. STARLIGHT1.2Thou lookest on the stars above:1.3Ah, would that I the heaven might be1.4With a million eyes to look on thee.

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Evolution

© Thornely Thomas

When Nature set herself to work, she did it in a way,Which seems a little odd to us, who order things today

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Epitaph in Ballade Form which Villon Made for Himself

© Thorley Wilfred Charles

O brother men that live when we have end, Let not your hearts 'gainst us be hardenynge;For if on us your pitie ye doe spend, Likewyse to you shall Godde be pityinge

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El Desdichado

© Thorley Wilfred Charles

I am the dark inheritor of woe, The Prince of Aquitaine whose palace spire Lies low in dust

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Evening of Battle

© Taylor Edward Robeson

Severe the battle's shock. CenturionsAnd tribunes, rallying their men, drink inOnce more from air that vibrates with their dinThe scents and ardors of red slaughter's sons.

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Every man has his sorrows

© Arthur Symons

Every man has his sorrows; yet each stillHides under a calm forehead his own will

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Euclid Street

© Sullivan Rosemary

She stands on the porch, late

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Empty Bed Blues

© Smith Bessie

I woke up this mornin'with an awful achin' head,I woke up this mornin'with an awful achin' head,My new man left me,Just a room and an empty bed.

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Epitaph

© Arthur James Marshall Smith

Weep not on this quiet stone,I, embedded hereWhere sturdy roots divide the boneAnd tendrils split a hair,Bespeak you comfort of the grassThat is embodied me,Which as I am, not as I was,Would choose to be

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Eleventh Song

© Sir Philip Sidney

"Who is it that this dark nightUnderneath my window plaineth?"It is one who from thy sightBeing, ah, exil'd, disdainethEvery other vulgar light.