Future poems
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All Souls' Night
© William Butler Yeats
MIDNIGHT has come, and the great Christ Church Bell
And may a lesser bell sound through the room;
Nineteen Hundred And Nineteen
© William Butler Yeats
MANY ingenious lovely things are gone
That seemed sheer miracle to the multitude,
When First
© Edward Thomas
When first I came here I had hope,
Hope for I knew not what. Fast beat
My heart at the sight of the tall slope
Or grass and yews, as if my feet
Socrates
© Edward Young
Night is fair Virtue's immemorial friend.
The conscious moon through every distant age
Sire
© William Stanley Merwin
Here comes the shadow not looking where it is going,
And the whole night will fall; it is time.
Here comes the little wind which the hour
Drags with it everywhere like an empty wagon through leaves.
Here comes my ignorance shuffling after them
Asking them what they are doing.
Orpheus Alone
© Mark Strand
It was an adventure much could be made of: a walk
On the shores of the darkest known river,
Idylls of the King: The Passing of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
That story which the bold Sir Bedivere,
First made and latest left of all the knights,
Told, when the man was no more than a voice
In the white winter of his age, to those
With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds.
The Thirteenth Olympic Ode Of Pindar
© Henry James Pye
To Xenophon of Corinth, on his Victory in the Stadic Course, and Pentathlon, at Olympia. ARGUMENT. The Poet begins his Ode, by complimenting the family of Xenophon, on their successes in the Olympic Games, and their hospitality; and then celebrates their country, Corinth, for it's good government, and for the quick genius of it's inhabitants, in the invention of many useful and ornamental Arts. He then implores Jupiter to continue his blessings on them, and to remain propitious to Xenophon; whose exploits he enumerates, together with those of Thessalus and Ptodorus, his father and grandfather. He then launches out again in praise of Corinth and her Citizens, and relates the story of Bellerophon. He then, checking himself for digressing so far, returns to his Hero, relates his various success in the inferior Games of Greece, and concludes with a Prayer to Jupiter.
STROPHE I.
Sonnet LII.
© Charlotte Turner Smith
FROM THE NOVEL OF CELESTINA.
THE PILGRIM.
FAULTERING and sad the unhappy pilgrim roves,
Who, on the eve of bleak December's night,
The Nails
© William Stanley Merwin
I gave you sorrow to hang on your wall
Like a calendar in one color.
Wormwood And Nightshade
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
The troubles of life are many,
The pleasures of life are few;
When we sat in the sunlight, Annie,
I dreamt that the skies were blue -
The Stockman's Last Bed
© Anonymous
Be ye stockmen or no, to my story give ear.
Alas! for poor Jack, no more shall we hear
The crack of his stockwhip, his steed's lively trot,
His clear "Go ahead, boys," his jingling quart pot.
Lines In Memory Of Edmund Morris
© Duncan Campbell Scott
How shall we transmit in tendril-like images,
The tenuous tremor in the tissues of ether,
Before the round of colour buds like the dome of a shrine,
The preconscious moment when love has fluttered in the bosom,
Before it begins to ache?
The Recluse - Book First
© William Wordsworth
HOME AT GRASMERE
ONCE to the verge of yon steep barrier came
A roving school-boy; what the adventurer's age
Hath now escaped his memory--but the hour,
Sonnets Of The Blood VIII
© Allen Tate
Not power nor the casual hand of God
Shall keep us whole in our dissevering air,
Nostalgia
© Billy Collins
The 1790s will never come again. Childhood was big.
People would take walks to the very tops of hills
and write down what they saw in their journals without speaking.
Our collars were high and our hats were extremely soft.
We would surprise each other with alphabets made of twigs.
It was a wonderful time to be alive, or even dead.
April 18
© Sylvia Plath
and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation
Night Without Sleep
© Robinson Jeffers
The world’s as the world is; the nations rearm and prepare to change; the age of tyrants returns;
The greatest civilization that has ever existed builds itself higher towers on breaking foundations.
Recurrent episodes; they were determined when the ape’s children first ran in packs, chipped flint to an edge.
