Poems begining by E
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: LVII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
This was my term of glory. All who know
Something of life will guess untold the end.
In love, one ever kisses for his woe,
One lends his cheek, alas! or seems to lend,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Me, too, she doubtless read. For, with her hand
Raised as for help and pointing to a chair,
She bade me, with a gesture, part command
And part entreaty, I would set her there.
Epitaph (On a Commonplace Person Who Died in Bed)
© Amy Levy
This is the end of him, here he lies:
The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes,
Er Companatico Der Paradiso (Heaven's Food)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
Dio doppo avé creato in pochi giorni
Quello che c'è de bello e c'é de brutto,
In paradiso o in de li su' contorni
Creò un rampino e ciattaccò un presciutto.
Emily Hardcastle, Spinster
© John Crowe Ransom
We shall come tomorrow morning, who were not to have her love,
We shall bring no face of envy but a gift of praise and lilies
To the stately ceremonial we are not the heroes of.
English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire
© George Gordon Byron
These are the themes that claim our plaudits now;
These are the bards to whom the muse must bow;
While Milton, Dryden, Pope, alike forgot,
Resign their hallow'd bays to Walter Scott.
Envoy
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Young Knight, the lists are set to-day!
Hereafter shall be time to pray
Epitaph On A Beloved Friend
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, Friend! for ever loved, for ever dear!
What fruitless tears have bathed thy honour'd bier!
What sighs re'echo'd to thy parting breath,
Wilst thou wast struggling in the pangs of death!
Eve
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Only the serpent in the dust
Wriggling and crawling,
Grinned an evil grin and thrust
His tongue out with its fork.
Epistle (to the author of The Three Impostors)
© Voltaire
I see from afar that era coming, those happy days,
When philosophy, enlightening humanity,
Must lead them in peace to the feet of the common master;
Frightful fanaticism will tremble to appear there:
There will be less dogma with more virtue.
Echoes from the Sabine Farm
© Eugene Field
WHAT end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconöe,we may not know.
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest.
T is for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
Earthly Parting
© John Kenyon
Had Heaven, to prayer of mine more kind,
But snapped my thread of Being first,
Extreme Unction
© James Russell Lowell
Go! leave me, Priest; my soul would be
Alone with the consoler, Death;
Eclogue The First
© Thomas Chatterton
WHANNE Englonde, smeethynge from her lethal wound;
From her galled necke dyd twytte the chayne awaie,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXIV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Thus through these griefs I had been set apart,
As for a double priesthood. Life to me,
In those first moments when I probed my heart,
Less an enchantress seemed than enemy.
Edward Everett
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WINTER'S cold drift lies glistening o'er his breast;
For him no spring shall bid the leaf unfold
What Love could speak, by sudden grief oppressed,
What swiftly summoned Memory tell, is told.
Expostulation
© Frances Anne Kemble
What though the sun must set, and darkness come,
Shall we turn coldly from the blessèd light,
