God poems
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Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing
© Margaret Atwood
The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
Dickens: Sonnets
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
CHIEF in thy generation born of men
Whom English praise acclaimed as English-born,
The Fan : A Poem. Book I.
© John Gay
The goddess pleas'd, the curious work receive,
Remounts her chariot, and the grotto leaves;
With the light fan she moves the yielding air,
And gales, till then unknown, play round the fair.
The Wanderings Of Oisin: Book III
© William Butler Yeats
Fled foam underneath us, and round us, a wandering and milky smoke,
High as the Saddle-girth, covering away from our glances the tide;
And those that fled, and that followed, from the foam-pale distance broke;
The immortal desire of Immortals we saw in their faces, and sighed.
On Gray Eyes
© William Strode
Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night,
How sleekest Jett yields to the di'monds light,
So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye
Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty.
On A Great Hollow Tree
© William Strode
Preethee stand still awhile, and view this tree
Renown'd and honour'd for antiquitie
By all the neighbour twiggs; for such are all
The trees adjoyning, bee they nere so tall,
On A Gentlewoman That Sung And Play'd Upon A Lute
© William Strode
Be silent you still musique of the Sphears,
And every sense make haste to be all ears,
And give devout attention to her aires,
To which the Gods doe listen as to prayers
The Four Ages of Man
© Anne Bradstreet
1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.
Soli Cantare Periti Arcades
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Oh, I would live in a dairy,
And its Colin I would be,
And many a rustic fairy
Should churn the milk with me.
Prayer In Time Of War
© Edith Nesbit
Now Death is near, and very near,
In this wild whirl of horror and fear,
When round the vessel of our State
Roll the great mountain waves of hate.
God! We have but one prayer to-day -
O Father, teach us how to pray.
Samuel Sewall
© Anthony Evan Hecht
And all the town admired for two full years
His excellent address, his gifts of fruit,
Her gracious ways and delicate white ears,
And held the course of nature abolute.
A Hill
© Anthony Evan Hecht
In Italy, where this sort of thing can occur,
I had a vision once - though you understand
It was nothing at all like Dante's, or the visions of saints,
And perhaps not a vision at all. I was with some friends,
A Worldly Death-Bed
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Hush! speak in accents soft and low,
And treat with careful stealth
Three Palinodias.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Beginning, rudely, I admit,
To treat the lady with a text.
To this she hearken'd not at all,
But hasten'd to his principal:
"None are so wise, they say, as you,--
Is not the world enough for two?
The Consecrated Spot.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHEN in the dance of the Nymphs, in the moonlight so holy assembled,Mingle the Graces, down from Olympus in secret descending,
Here doth the minstrel hide, and list to their numbers enthralling,Here doth he watch their silent dances' mysterious measure.
All that is glorious in Heaven, and all that the earth in her beautyEver hath brought into life, the dreamer awake sees before him;
All he repeats to the Muses, and lest the gods should be anger'd,How to tell of secrets discreetly, the Muses instruct him. 1789.*
Elegy IV. Anno Aet. 18. To My Tutor, Thomas Young, Chaplain Of The English Merchants Resident At Ham
© William Cowper
Hence, my epistle--skim the Deep--fly o'er
Yon smooth expanse to the Teutonic shore!
Solitude.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OH ye kindly nymphs, who dwell 'mongst the rocks and the thickets,
Fragments - Lines 0467 - 0496
© Theognis of Megara
Of those now here with us, do not detain anyone who is unwilling to remain,
Nor show the door to anyone who does not wish to go,
I. The Pariah's Prayer
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
DREADED Brama, lord of might!All proceed from thee alone;
Thou art he who judgeth right!Dost thou none but Brahmins own?
Do but Rajahs come from thee?None but those of high estate?Didst not thou the ape create,
Aye, and even such as we?We are not of noble kind,For with woe our lot is rife;
