God poems
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Against Fruition
© Abraham Cowley
No; thou'rt a fool, I'll swear, if e'er thou grant;
Much of my veneration thou must want,
Harry Morant
© William Henry Ogilvie
Harry Morant was a friend I had
In the years long passed away,
A chivalrous, wild and reckless lad,
A knight born out of his day.
Tolands Invitation To Dismal To Dine With The Calves Head Club
© Jonathan Swift
If, dearest Dismal, you for once can dine
Upon a single dish, and tavern wine,
Toland to you this invitation sends,
To eat the calfs head with your trusty friends.
You Gote-herd Gods
© Sir Philip Sidney
You Gote-herd Gods, that loue the grassie mountaines,
You Nimphes that haunt the springs in pleasant vallies,
You Satyrs ioyde with free and quiet forests,
Vouchsafe your silent eares to playning musique,
Which to my woes giues still an early morning;
And drawes the dolor on till wery euening.
Ode To Joy -- With Translation
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
Was den grossen Ring bewohnet,
Huldige der Sympathie!
Zu den Sternen leitet sie,
Wo der Unbekannte thronet.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book VII - Udyoga -- (The Preparation)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
And to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace,
Raised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud
should cease!
Lines Inscribed Upon A Cup Formed From A Skull
© George Gordon Byron
Start not--nor deem my spirit fled:
In me behold the only skull
From which, unlike a living head,
Whatever flows is never dull.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
The camp at great Jerusalem arrives:
The Bonie Wee Thing
© Robert Burns
Wishfully I look and languish
In that bonie face o' thine,
And my heart it sounds wi' anguish,
Lest my wee thing be na mine.
The Last Banquet Of Antony And Cleopatra
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Thy foes had girt thee with their dead array,
O stately Alexandra! - yet the sound
Eavesdropper
© Sylvia Plath
Your brother will trim my hedges!
They darken your house,
Nosy grower,
Mole on my shoulder,
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
The Morning Dream, A Ballad. To The Tune Of 'Tweed Side.'
© William Cowper
'Twas in the glad season of spring,
Asleep at the dawn of the day,
The Palace of Art
© Alfred Tennyson
And "while the world runs round and round," I said,
"Reign thou apart, a quiet king,
Still as, while Saturn whirls, his steadfast shade
Sleeps on his luminous ring."
Purgatorio (English)
© Dante Alighieri
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail
The little vessel of my genius now,
That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
To Mr. Dryden
© Joseph Addison
How long, great Poet, shall thy sacred lays
Provoke our wonder, and transcend our praise?
Vision of Belshazzar
© George Gordon Byron
The King was on his throne,
The Satraps throng'd the hall:
A thousand bright lamps shone
O'er that high festival.
The Sense Of Beauty
© Caroline Norton
Lo! at his pencil's touch steals faintly forth
(Like an uprising star in the cold north)
Some face which soon shall glow with beauty's fire:
Dim seems the sketch to those who stand around,
Dim and uncertain as an echoed sound,
But oh! how bright to him, whose hand thou dost inspire!
