Poems begining by F
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Forest Silence
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Where she reclines
In a rock's cup,
Smooth, tawny--mossed,
Under tall pines,
Her eyes look up,
Her gaze is lost.
From A City Window
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
For somewhere, dear, there's a magic land
On the shores of a silver sea;
And there is a boat with turquoise sails -
With sails that are wide and free;
A boat that is whirling through the spray,
That is coming for you and me!
From the Medea of Euripides
© Samuel Johnson
The rites derived from ancient days
With thoughtless reverence we praise,
Fortune
© Geoffrey Chaucer
This wrecched worldes transmutacioun,
As wele or wo, now povre and now honour,
Fragment. Welcome Joy, And Welcome Sorrow
© John Keats
"Under the flag
Of each his faction, they to battle bring
Their embryo atoms." ~ Milton.
Fragment On Painters
© Rupert Brooke
There is an evil which that Race attaints
Who represent Gods World with oily paints,
Fine
© Edgar Albert Guest
Isn't it fine when the day is done,
And the petty battles are lost or won,
When the gold is made and the ink is dried,
To quit the struggle and turn aside
To spend an hour with your boy in play,
And let him race all of your cares away?
For The Window In St. Margarets
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AFAR he sleeps whose name is graven here,
Where loving hearts his early doom deplore;
Youth, promise, virtue, all that made him dear
Heaven lent, earth borrowed, sorrowing to restore.
Fox-Hunting
© Rudyard Kipling
THE FOX MEDITATES
When Samson set my brush afire
To spoil the Timnites barley,
I made my point for Leicestershire
Fragment: Such Hope, As Is The Sick Despair Of Good
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Such hope, as is the sick despair of good,
Such fear, as is the certainty of ill,
Such doubt, as is pale Expectations food
Turned while she tastes to poison, when the will
Is powerless, and the spirit...
Fairies On The Sea Shore. By Howard
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
FIRST FAIRY.
MY home and haunt are in every leaf,
First Snow
© Boris Pasternak
Outside the snowstorm spins, and hides
The world beneath a pall.
Snowed under are the paper-girl,
The papers and the stall.
Friar Pedro's Ride
© Francis Bret Harte
It was the morning season of the year;
It was the morning era of the land;
Found Wanting
© Carolyn Wells
There lived a wondrous sculptor once, a genius in his way,
Named Phidias Praxiteles Canova Merryday.
He sat within his studio and said, "I really must
Begin a Rhodian anaglyptic ceroplastic bust.
Forbearance
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(Beareth all things.---1 Cor. xiii. 7.)
Gently I took that which ungently came,
And without scorn forgave:--Do thou the same.
For My Wife by Wesley McNair : American Life in Poetry #255 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
A honeymoon. How often does one happen according to the dreams that preceded it? In this poem, Wesley McNair, a poet from Maine, describes a first night of marriage in a tawdry place. But all’s well that ends well.
Facta Non Verba
© Henry Van Dyke
Deeds not Words: I say so too!
And yet I find it somehow true,
A word may help a man in need,
To nobler act and braver deed.
