Poems begining by E
/ page 62 of 77 /English Thornton
© Edgar Lee Masters
Here! You sons of the men
Who fought with Washington at Valley Forge,
And whipped Black Hawk at Starved Rock,
Arise! Do battle with the descendants of those
Edith Conant
© Edgar Lee Masters
We stand about this place -- we, the memories;
And shade our eyes because we dread to read:
"June 17th, 1884, aged 21 years and 3 days."
And all things are changed.
Elizabeth Childers
© Edgar Lee Masters
Dust of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
Ernest Hyde
© Edgar Lee Masters
My mind was a mirror:
It saw what it saw, it knew what it knew.
In youth my mind was just a mirror
In a rapidly flying car,
Emily Sparks
© Edgar Lee Masters
Where is my boy, my boy --
In what far part of the world?
The boy I loved best of all in the school? --
I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart,
Eating and Drinking chapter VI
© Khalil Gibran
Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, "Speak to us of Eating and Drinking."
Epitaph For A Romantic Woman
© Louise Bogan
She has attained the permanence
She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning.
Untended stalks blow over her
Even and swift, like young men running.
Endymion.
© Adelaide Crapsey
"Let me be young," the Latmian shepherd prayed,
"And let me have on night-time hills long sleep;"
Empty
© Sukasah Syahdan
I have let her, the kid unstopper me
thinking she would drink me up and part of her I'd be;
I am now an empty bottle all right
the rest of me your crippled dog instead
Everybody is an Ezing!
© Sukasah Syahdan
everybody is an Ezing to themselves!
oh yes, because reality does not exist,
oh no, even when it seems so.
only action happens, even when it doesn't.
Eyes
© Sukasah Syahdan
I used to believe that comprehension began right there;
that what eyes failed to make sense of, was insensibility. Every time a picture offers a thousand words,
they claim the first to know; and if it were not through them, how would we fall for the beauty of a look?
Earlier Poems : The Spirit Of Poetry
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
There is a quiet spirit in these woods,
That dwells where'er the gentle south-wind blows;
Every Silent Plant in the Garden
© Sukasah Syahdan
every silent plant in the garden knows
two sorts of wishes make up the world:
one is conceived in heaven, the other in hell
the earth buttoned its lip, too humble to tell
Either
© Sukasah Syahdan
if you are young and bright
at one and twenty, go to a:if you are old and gray
at one and sixty, see b:a)
scorn these lines,
Efficiency
© Sukasah Syahdan
Some say the taxes we paid
through the nose
were spent on weapons
that would send us to the grave.
Today, realizing the old way is inefficient,
they have made us kill each other.
Exposure
© Seamus Justin Heaney
It is December in Wicklow:
Alders dripping, birches
Inheriting the last light,
The ash tree cold to look at.