Poems begining by G

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Good-Bye--God Bless You!

© Eugene Field

I like the Anglo-Saxon speech

With its direct revealings;

Gibberish

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Many a flower have I seen blossom,
Many a bird for me will sing.
Never heard I so sweet a singer,
Never saw I so fair a thing.

Go, Piteous Heart

© John Skelton

GO, pytyous hart, rasyd with dedly wo,

Persyd with payn, bleding with wondes smart,

Georges Et Jeanne

© Victor Marie Hugo

Moi qu'un petit enfant rend tout à fait stupide,

J'en ai deux ; George et Jeanne ; et je prends l'un pour guide

Glycera Rediviva

© Franklin Pierce Adams

Venus, the cruel mother of
The Cupids (symbolizing Love),
Bids me to muse upon and sigh
For things to which I've said "Good-bye!"

Genesis BK VIII

© Caedmon

(ll. 389-400) "But now we suffer throes of hell, fire and

darkness, bottomless and grim. God hath thrust us out into the

Guard-Duty

© August Stramm

A star frightens the steeple cross

a horse gasps smoke

Good-Bye, And Keep Cold

© Robert Frost

This saying good-bye on the edge of the dark

And cold to an orchard so young in the bark

Goodbye

© Antonio de Castro Alves

GOODBYE - O ungrateful child!
You said to me - goodbye -?
Madness! better it would be
To separate the land from the skies.

girls take sprouts of rice

© Jean de Schelandre

girls take sprouts of rice.
reflection of water flickers
on backs of sedge hats.

God

© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin

O Thou, who's infinite in space,

Alive in ever-moving matter,

I think we lived a loftier life through hours of Long Ago,
For in the largened evening earth our spirits seemed to grow.
Well, that has passed, and here I stand, upon a lonely place,
While Night is stealing round the land, like Time across my face;
But I can calmly recollect our shadowy parting scene,
And swooning thoughts that had no voice no utterance, Geraldine.

George Edmunds' Song

© Charles Dickens

Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here;

Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear!

Gramercy Park

© Sara Teasdale

The little park was filled with peace,
The walks were carpeted with snow,
But every iron gate was locked.
Lest if we entered, peace would go.

Grabschrift Marianae Gryphiae,

Geboren in der Flucht, umringt mit Schwert und Brand,

Schier in dem Rauch erstickt, der Mutter herbes Pfand,

God's Work

To J. J. H., Of Kentucky

Greeks

You really can't imagine how I love the ancient Greeks.
I love the dancing language where their mobile spirit speaks.
I love the songs of Homer, flowing on like streams of light,
With a touch of human kindness in the splendid shock of fight.

Grata Juventas

She trembles when I touch
The tips of scarce-grown fingers,
Yet seems to think it overmuch
If for a moment lingers
Grasp that I hardly meant for such.