Poems begining by E
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Eclogue:--John An' Thomas
© William Barnes
Well, there, the geärden stuff an' flow'rs
Don't leäve me many idle hours;
But still, though I mid plant or zow,
'Tis Woone above do meäke it grow.
Ephesians IV. 30. "Grieve Not The Holy Spirit, &c."
© George Herbert
And art thou grieved, sweet and sacred Dove,
When I am sowre,
And crosse thy love?
Grieved for me? the God of strength and power
Griev'd for a worm, which when I tread,
I passe away and leave it dead?
Epigram : To Leonora Singing At Rome 2 (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Naples, too credulous, ah! boast no more
The sweet-voiced Siren buried on thy shore,
Endymion: A Mystical Comment On Titian's 'Sacred And Profane Love'
© James Russell Lowell
Long she abode aloof there in her heaven,
Far as the grape-bunch of the Pleiad seven
Beyond my madness' utmost leap; but here
Mine eyes have feigned of late her rapture near,
Moulded of mind-mist that broad day dispels,
Here in these shadowy woods and brook-lulled dells.
Earbud by Bill Holm : American Life in Poetry #213 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Bill Holm, one of the most intelligent and engaging writers of our northern plains, died on February 25th. He will be greatly missed. He and I were of the same generation and we shared the same sense of wonder, amusement, and skepticism about the course of technology. I don't yet own an Earbud, but I won't need to, now that we have Bill's poem.
Earbud
Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School
© William Wordsworth
Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest
Far in the regions of the west,
Though to the vale no parting beam
Be given, not one memorial gleam,
A lingering light he fondly throws
On the dear hills where first he rose.
Explanation Of An Ancient Woodcut
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Soon as the spring-sun meets his view,
Repose begets him labour anew;
He feels that he holds within his brain
A little world, that broods there amain,
And that begins to act and to live,
Which he to others would gladly give.
Exmoor Verses
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Over the rim of the Moor,
And under the starry sky,
Two men came to my door
And rested them thereby.
Englysh Metamorphosis
© Thomas Chatterton
BOOKE st.
WHANNE Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves theie chacde,
Edith Cavell
© Robert Laurence Binyon
She was binding the wounds of her enemies when they came
The lint in her hand unrolled.
Epilogue to 'The Sister'
© Oliver Goldsmith
WHAT! five long acts -- and all to make us wiser!
Our authoress sure has wanted an adviser.
Epilogue Intended To Have Been Spoken For 'She Stoops To Conquer'
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Enter' MRS. BULKLEY,
'who curtsies very low as beginning to speak.
Then enter' MISS CATLEY,
'who stands full before her, and curtsies to the audience'.
En cossirer e en esmai
© Bernard de Ventadorn
En cossirer et en esmai
sui d'un amor que.m lass'e.m te,
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I fled into the bosom of the night,
Leaving the Fair behind me. I had need
Of the sweet healing darkness to my sight,
As a bruise needs a poultice. And in speed
Elegy III. On the Untimely Death of a Certain Learned Acquainance
© William Shenstone
If proud Pygmalion quit his cumbrous frame,
Funereal pomp the scanty tear supplies;
Whilst heralds loud, with venal voice, proclaim,
Lo! here the brave and the puissant lies.
Epigram - To John I Owed Great Obligation
© Matthew Prior
To John I owed great obligation,
But John unhappily thought fit
To publish it to all the nation:
Sure John and I are more than quit.
Evening
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
WHEN the white iris folds the drowsing bee,
When the first cricket wakes
