Poems begining by E
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Echo by Robert West: American Life in Poetry #114 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Poetry can be thought of as an act of persuasion: a poem attempts to bring about some kind of change in its reader, perhaps no more than a moment of clarity amidst the disorder of everyday life. And successful poems not only make use of the meanings and sounds of words, as well as the images those words conjure up, but may also take advantage of the arrangement of type on a page. Notice how this little poem by Mississippi poet Robert West makes the very best use of the empty space around it to help convey the nature of its subject.
Echo
Eclogue The Second
© Thomas Chatterton
SPRYTES of the bleste, the pious Nygelle sed,
Poure owte yer pleasaunce onn mie fadres hedde.
Even As A Dragons Eye That Feels The Stress
© William Wordsworth
EVEN as a dragon's eye that feels the stress
Of a bedimming sleep, or as a lamp
Suddenly glaring through sepulchral damp,
So burns yon Taper 'mid a black recess
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXIX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
``We shall be friends. How friends? You must know me first.
What? Like the Pont Neuf? Should you wish it? Well,
None ever yet repented it who durst.
Oh! you shall know me as I dare not tell.
Elegy VIII. He Describes His Early Love of Poetry, and Its Consequences
© William Shenstone
Ah me! what envious magic thins my fold?
What mutter'd spell retards their late increase?
Such lessening fleeces must the swain behold,
That e'er with Doric pipe essays to please.
Epigram: The World Is A Bundle Of Hay
© George Gordon Byron
The world is a bundle of hay,
Mankind are the asses who pull;
Each tugs it a different way,
And the greatest of all is John Bull.
Elegy
© James Beattie
Tired with the busy crowds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XXXVI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
She watched me curiously with mocking eyes,
Yet tenderly, till once again her mirth
Prevailed with her, and quick in feigned surprise
Thrusting me back, ``Ah, traitor!'' she broke forth,
Eclogue 3: Menalcas Daemoetas Palaemon
© Publius Vergilius Maro
DAMOETAS
Nay, they are Aegon's sheep, of late by him
Committed to my care.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: IV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And thus it is. The tale I have to tell
Is such another. He who reads shall find
That which he brings to it of Heaven or Hell
For his best recompense where much is blind,
Excelsior
© Francis Bret Harte
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Eastern village passed
A youth who bore, through dust and heat,
A stencil-plate, that read complete--"SAPOLIO."
Elegy On Newstead Abbey
© George Gordon Byron
No mail-clad serfs, obedient to their lord,
In grim array the crimson cross demand;
Or gay assemble round the festive board
Their chief's retainers, an immortal band:
Eclogue
© John Donne
ALLOPHANES FINDING IDIOS IN THE COUNTRY IN
CHRISTMAS TIME, REPREHENDS HIS ABSENCE
FROM COURT, AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE EARL
OF SOMERSET ; IDIOS GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF
HIS PURPOSE THEREIN, AND OF HIS ACTIONS
THERE.
Elegy Of Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Lincoln is gone who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.
Evensong
© Ada Cambridge
The sun has set; grey shadows darken slowly
The rose-red cloud-hills that were bathed in light
O Lord, to Thee, with spirit meek and lowly,
I kneel in prayer to-night.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XL
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
She went on talking like a running stream,
Without more reason or more pause or stay
Than to gather breath and then pursue her whim
Just where it led her, tender, sad, or gay.
El Adios
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
(Así interrogo en la profunda noche
mientras las nubes van
cual pesadillas lóbregas, y gimen,
a distancia, unos huérfanos sin pan.)
Escape From The Snares Of Love
© Caroline Norton
YOUNG LOVE has chains of metal rare,
Heavy as gold-yet light as air:
It chanced he caught a heart one day
Which struggled hard, as loth to stay.
Epitaph On A Jacobite
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
To my true king I offered free from stain
Courage and faith; vain faith, and courage vain.
