God poems
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Idyll XXVI. The Bacchanals
© Theocritus
Agave of the vermeil-tinted cheek
And Ino and Autonoae marshalled erst
Three bands of revellers under one hill-peak.
They plucked the wild-oak's matted foliage first,
Lush ivy then, and creeping asphodel;
And reared therewith twelve shrines amid the untrodden fell:
Sauve Patria
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Yo que sólo canté de la exquisita
partitura del íntimo decoro,
alzo hoy la voz a la mitad del foro
a la manera del tenor que imita
la gutural modulación del bajo,
para cortar a la epopeya un gajo.
Translation From The Medea Of Euripides
© George Gordon Byron
When fierce conflicting urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
Homage To Sextus Propertius - I
© Ezra Pound
Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks
And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years.
Stands genius a deathless adornment,
a name not to be worn out with the years.
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
LUIS. Oh, that name
Do not mention! do not kill me
By repeating what doth thrill me
To the centre of my frame
As with lightning. Yes, I know
That at length Polonia died.
The Word of God
© George MacDonald
Where the bud has never blown
Who for scent is debtor?
Where the spirit rests unknown
Fatal is the letter.
Dinah in Heaven
© Rudyard Kipling
She did not know that she was dead,
But, when the pang was o'er,
Sat down to wait her Master's tread
Upon the Golden Floor,
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 10
© William Langland
Thanne hadde Wit a wif, was hote Dame Studie,
That lene was of lere and of liche bothe.
Song Of Sardanapalus
© Hume Nisbet
I
'WHAT am I? a God or Man?
Man is God when great and rich
God is man when in the ditch.
Ho, there! servers, fill each can!
Written In Juice Of Lemon
© Abraham Cowley
Whilst what I write I do not see,
I dare thus, ev'n to you, write poetry.
Ah, foolish Muse! which dost so high aspire,
And know'st her judgment well,
How much it does thy power excel,
Yet dar'st be read by, thy just doom, the fire.
The Horse Thief
© William Rose Benet
There he moved, cropping the grass at the purple canyons lip.
His mane was mixed with the moonlight that silvered his snow-white side,
For the moon sailed out of a cloud with the wake of a spectral ship.
I crouched and I crawled on my belly, my lariat coil looped wide.
Constancy In Inconstancy
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
An Old Mans Confession
SHE has a large still heart--this lady of mine,
(Not mine, i'faith! nor would I that she were
She walks this world of ours like Grecian nymph,
Sister Songs-An Offering To Two Sisters - Part The First
© Francis Thompson
The leaves dance, the leaves sing,
The leaves dance in the breath of the Spring.
Spectator ab Extra
© Arthur Hugh Clough
As I sat in the Café I said to myself,
They may talk as they please about what they call pelf,
They may sneer as they like about eating and drinking,
But help it I cannot, I cannot help thinking
How pleasant it is to have money, heigh-ho!
How pleasant it is to have money.
An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. Burleigh, May 14, 1689
© Matthew Prior
Sir,
As once a twelvemonth to the priest,
The Judgement Of Venus
© Matthew Prior
When Kneller's works, of various grace,
Were to fair Venus shown,
The Goddess spied in every face
Some features of her own.
