God poems
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Strayed Reveller, The
© Matthew Arnold
Hist! Thou-within there!
Come forth, Ulysses!
Art tired with hunting?
While we range the woodland,
See what the day brings.
The Song Of Empedocles
© Matthew Arnold
And you, ye stars,
Who slowly begin to marshal,
As of old, in the fields of heaven,
Your distant, melancholy lines!
Stanzas from the Grande Chartreuse
© Matthew Arnold
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused
With rain, where thick the crocus blows,
Past the dark forges long disused,
The mule-track from Saint Laurent goes.
The bridge is cross'd, and slow we ride,
Through forest, up the mountain-side.
Consolation
© Matthew Arnold
Mist clogs the sunshine.
Smoky dwarf houses
Hem me round everywhere;
A vague dejection
Weighs down my soul.
The Scholar Gypsy
© Matthew Arnold
But, 'mid their drink and clatter, he would fly.
And I myself seem half to know thy looks,
And put the shepherds, wanderer! on thy trace;
And boys who in lone wheatfields scare the rooks
I ask if thou hast passed their quiet place;
Helen In Hollywood
© Judy Grahn
She writes in red red lipstick
on the window of her body,
long for me, oh need me!
Parts her lips like a lotus.
Chloris
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHAT time the rosy-flushing West
Sleeps soft on copse and dingle,
Wherein the sunset shadows rest,
Or richly float and mingle;
To cinna
© Eugene Field
Cinna, the great Venusian told
In songs that will not die
How in Augustan days of old
Your love did glorify
Invocation
© Ambrose Bierce
Goddess of Liberty! O thou
Whose tearless eyes behold the chain,
And look unmoved upon the slain,
Eternal peace upon thy brow,-
The Lyttel Boy
© Eugene Field
Sometime there ben a lyttel boy
That wolde not renne and play,
And helpless like that little tyke
Ben allwais in the way.
Sonnet II
© John Masefield
Forget all these, the barren fool in power,
The madman in command, the jealous O,
The bitter world, biting its bitter hour,
The cruel now, the happy long ago.
The Bibliomaniac's Prayer
© Eugene Field
Keep me, I pray, in wisdom's way
That I may truths eternal seek;
I need protecting care to-day,--
My purse is light, my flesh is weak.
The "happy isles" of horace
© Eugene Field
Oh, come with me to the Happy Isles
In the golden haze off yonder,
Where the song of the sun-kissed breeze beguiles,
And the ocean loves to wander.
Mediaeval eventide song
© Eugene Field
Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,
For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,
And yonder sings ye angell as onely angells may,
And his songe ben of a garden that bloometh farre awaye.
Madge: Ye Hoyden
© Eugene Field
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft,
Ffor that a romping wench was shee--
"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft,
"Forsooken sholde your folly bee!"
The Goddess Contributed To The Fair For The Ladies Patriotic Fund Of The Pacific
© Francis Bret Harte
"Who comes?" The sentry`s warning cry
Rings sharply on the evening air:
Who comes? The challenge: no reply,
Yet something motions there.
Ancient Music (Parody)
© Ezra Pound
Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Horace to Melpomene
© Eugene Field
Lofty and enduring is the monument I've reared,--
Come, tempests, with your bitterness assailing;
And thou, corrosive blasts of time, by all things mortal feared,
Thy buffets and thy rage are unavailing!
