God poems
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To ---, Written At Venice
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Not only through the golden haze
Of indistinct surprise,
With which the Ocean--bride displays
Her pomp to stranger eyes;--
Summer Afternoon (Bodiam Castle, Sussex)
© Edith Wharton
And this was thine: to lose thyself in me,
Relive in my renewal, and become
The light of other lives, a quenchless torch
Passed on from hand to hand, till men are dust
And the last garland withers from my shrine.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 17
© William Langland
"I am Spes, a spie,' quod he, "and spire after a knyght
That took me a maundement upon the mount of Synay
Ode To Peace
© James Beattie
I. 1.
Peace, heaven-descended maid! whose powerful voice
From ancient darkness call'd the morn;
And hush'd of jarring elements the noise,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XI - Sraddha - (Funeral Rites)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
From their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside,
Loose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly
pride!
Dawn
© Arthur Rimbaud
My first adventure, in a path already gleaming
With a clear pale light,
Was a flower who told me its name.
An Ode
© Madison Julius Cawein
_In Commemoration of the Founding of the
Massachusetts Bay Colony in the Year 1623._
Metamorphoses: Book The Sixth
© Ovid
The End of the Sixth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
June
© Archibald Lampman
Long, long ago, it seems, this summer morn
That pale-browed April passed with pensive tread
The Graveyard By The Sea
© Paul Valéry
Sure treasure, simple shrine to intelligence,
Palpable calm, visible reticence,
Proud-lidded water, Eye wherein there wells
Under a film of fire such depth of sleep --
O silence! . . . Mansion in my soul, you slope
Of gold, roof of a myriad golden tiles.
The Birth Of Love
© William Wordsworth
When Love was born of heavenly line,
What dire intrigues disturbed Cythera's joy!
Till Venus cried, "A mother's heart is mine;
None but myself shall nurse my boy,"
Hero And Leander. The Sixth Sestiad
© George Chapman
No longer could the Day nor Destinies
Delay the Night, who now did frowning rise
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 3
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Heavn had overturnd the Trojan state
And Priams throne, by too severe a fate;
Sonnet LXXIX. To The Goddess Of Botany
© Charlotte Turner Smith
OF Folly weary, shrinking from the view
Of Violence and Fraud, allow'd to take
All peace from humble life; I would forsake
Their haunts for ever, and, sweet Nymph! with you
Speranza
© Jean Ingelow
England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.
On Hearing The Bag-Pipe And Seeing "The Stranger" Played At Inverary
© John Keats
Of late two dainties were before me plac'd
Sweet, holy, pure, sacred and innocent,
From the ninth sphere to me benignly sent
That Gods might know my own particular taste:
