Poems begining by E
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Epitaph For William Pitt
© George Gordon Byron
With death doom'd to grapple,
Beneath this cold slab, he
Who lied in the Chapel
Now lies in the Abbey.
Epitaph of Hipponax
© Theocritus
Tuneful Hipponax rests him here.
Let no base rascal venture near.
Ye who rank high in birth and mind
Sit down--and sleep, if so inclined.
Ellen Irwin Or The Braes Of Kirtle
© William Wordsworth
FAIR Ellen Irwin, when she sate
Upon the braes of Kirtle,
Was lovely as a Grecian maid
Adorned with wreaths of myrtle;
Exposed on the cliffs of the heart
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Look, how tiny down there,
look: the last village of words and, higher,
Eternities
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
I cannot count the pebbles in the brook.
Well hath He spoken: "Swear not by thy head.
Thou knowest not the hairs," though He, we read,
Writes that wild number in His own strange book.
'Everyone's Friend'
© Henry Lawson
Nobodys Enemy down and out
Game to the end
And he mostly dies with no one about
Everyones Friend.
Entrance Of The Rivers
© Pablo Neruda
Beloved of the rivers,beset
By azure water and transparent drops,
Like a tree of veins your spectre
Of dark goddess biting apples:
Evangeline: Part The Second. IV.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
FAR in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains
Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous summits.
Early Spring
© Alfred Tennyson
Once more the Heavenly Power
Makes all things new,
And domes the red-plowed hills
With loving blue;
The blackbirds have their wills,
The throstles too.
E Tenebris
© Oscar Wilde
From morn to noon on Carmel's smitten height."
Nay, peace, I shall behold before the night,
The feet of brass, the robe more white than flame,
The wounded hands, the weary human face.
Epitaph
© William Carlos Williams
An old willow with hollow branches
slowly swayed his few high gright tendrils
and sang:
El Crimen Fue En Granada
© Antonio Machado
I
EL CRIMEN
Se le vio, caminando entre fusiles,
por una calle larga,
Elinoure And Juga
© Thomas Chatterton
ONNE Ruddeborne bank twa pynynge Maydens sate,
Theire teares faste dryppeynge to the waterre cleere;
Ephesus
© John Newton
Thus saith the Lord to Ephesus,
And thus he speaks to some of us;
Amidst my churches, lo, I stand,
And hold the pastors in my hand.
El Harith
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lightly took she her leave of me, Asmá--u,
went no whit as a guest who outstays a welcome;
Went forgetting our trysts, Burkát Shemmá--u,
all the joys of our love, our love's home, Khalsá--u.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: VI
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The Lyons fair! In truth it was a Heaven
For idlers' eyes, a feast of curious things,
Swings, roundabouts, and shows, the Champions Seven,
Dramas of battles and the deaths of kings,
Euthanasia
© Richard Crashaw
Wouldst see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile
Age? wouldst see December smile?
Eclogue:--A Ghost
© William Barnes
Aye; I do mind woone winter 'twer a-zaid
The farmer's vo'k could hardly sleep a-bed,
They heärd at night such scuffèns an' such jumpèns,
Such ugly naïses an' such rottlèn thumpèns.
