Poems begining by E
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Epigram : On The Inventor Of Gunpowder (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Praise in old time the sage Prometheus won,
Who stole ethereal radiance from the sun;
But greater he, whose bold invention strove
To emulate the fiery bolts of Jove.
Epitaph on S.P., a Child of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel
© Benjamin Jonson
Weep with me, all you that read
This little story;
Ever And Only.
© Robert Crawford
Be with me ever and only,
No other in thought with you;
Only without me lonely,
Ever in this way true.
ER RIFUGGIO (The Refuge)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
A le curte: te vòi sbrigà d'Aggnesa
Senza er risico tuo? Be', tu pprocura
D'ammazzalla vicino a quarche chiesa:
Poi scappa drento, e nun avé ppavura.
Elegance by Linda Gregg: American Life in Poetry #142 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
There's that old business about the tree falling in the middle of the forest with no one to hear it: does it make a noise? Here Linda Gregg, of New York, offers us a look at an elegant beauty that can be presumed to exist and persist without an observer.
Elegance
Elegy On The Death Of Mr. Phillips
© Thomas Chatterton
No more I hail the morning's golden gleam,
No more the wonders of the view I sing;
Friendship requires a melancholy theme,
At her command the awful lyre I string!
Ein Fichtenbaum
© Heinrich Heine
A single fir-tree, lonely,
On a northern mountain height,
Sleeps in a white blanket,
Draped in snow and ice.
Extraits
© Donald Justice
There is no way to ease the burden.
The voyage leads on from harm to harm,
A land of others and of silence.
Even When She Walks
© Charles Baudelaire
Even when she walks she seems to dance!
Her garments writhe and glisten like long snakes
obedient to the rhythm of the wands
by which a fakir wakens them to grace.
Epitaph On Thomas Parnell
© Oliver Goldsmith
THIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name,
May speak our gratitude, but not his fame.
Equipment
© Edgar Albert Guest
Figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You've all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes,
And a brain to use if you would be wise.
With this equipment they all began,
So start for the top and say "I can."
England
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shall we but turn from braggart pride
Our race to cheapen and defame?
Before the world to wail, to chide,
And weakness as with vaunting claim?
Epitaph
© George Gordon Byron
Posterity will ne'er survey
A nobler grave than this:
Here lie the bones of Castlereagh:
Stop, traveler--
ER ZAGRIFIZZIO D'ABBRAMO II (Abraham's Sacrifice 2)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
Doppo fatta un boccon de colazzione
Partirno tutt'e quattro a giorno chiaro,
E camminorno sempre in orazzione
Pe quarche mijo ppiù der centinaro.
Englands Poet
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Even over chaos and the murdering roar
Comes that world--winning music, whose full stops
Sounded all man, the bestial and divine;
Terrible as thunder, fresh as April drops.
He stands, he speaks, the soul--transfigured sign
Of all our story, on the English shore.
Epitaph Extempore
© Matthew Prior
Nobles and Heralds, by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior,
The son of Adam and of Eve;
Can Stuart or Nassau claim higher.
Even Such Is Time
© Sir Walter Raleigh
Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust,
Who in the dark and silent grave
