Good poems

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Z---------'s dream

© Anne Brontë

Unwonted weakness o'er me crept;
I sighed - nay, weaker still - I wept!
Wept, like a woman o'er the deed
I had been proud to do: -
As I had made his bosom bleed;
My own was bleeding too.

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Chimes

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I.

HONEY-FLOWERS to the honey-comb,

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Nightmare For Future Reference

© Stephen Vincent Benet

"Not like this," he said. "I can show you the curve.
It looks like the side of a mountain, going down.
And faster, the last three months yes, a good deal faster.
I showed it to Lobenheim and he was puzzled.
It makes a neat problem yes?" He looked at me.

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Nightmare At Noon

© Stephen Vincent Benet

But do not call it loud. There is plenty of time.
There is plenty of time, while the bombs on London fall
And turn the world to wind and water and fire.
There is time to sleep while the fire-bombs fall on London,
They are stubborn people in London.

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The Old House And The New

© William Henry Drummond

Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool,
  You're sure it 's  correc' , ma dear?
I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way
  For I t'ink it was twenty year,

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The Ghost - Book I

© Charles Churchill

With eager search to dart the soul,

Curiously vain, from pole to pole,

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Ode On Venice

© George Gordon Byron

I.
Oh Venice! Venice! when thy marble walls
  Are level with the waters, there shall be
A cry of nations o'er thy sunken halls,
  A loud lament along the sweeping sea!
If I, a northern wanderer, weep for thee,

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With Every Thought

© Paul Celan

With every Thought I went
out of the World: there you were,
you my Gentle One, you my Open One, and –
you received us.

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The Diver

© George MacDonald

"Which of you, knight or squire, will dare
Plunge into yonder gulf?
A golden beaker I fling in it-there!
The black mouth swallows it like a wolf!
Who brings me the cup again, whoever,
It is his own-he may keep it for ever!"

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A Song

© Victor Marie Hugo

Sitting at His table one day,
God and the devil a game did play;
Hated humanity was at stake;
Well, the first picked Bonaparte;
The other drew, and for his part,
'Twas Mastai that he did take.

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To His Valentine

© Michael Drayton

Muse, bid the morn awake,

Sad winter now declines,

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The Lake Josephus Days

© Richard Brautigan

We left Little Redfish for Lake Josephus, traveling along the

good names-from Stanley to Capehorn to Seafoam to the

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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto I.

© George Gordon Byron

Nay, smile not at my sullen brow,
Alas! I cannot smile again:
Yet Heaven avert that ever thou
Shouldst weep, and haply weep in vain.

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Laurance - [Part 1]

© Jean Ingelow

I.
He knew she did not love him; but so long
As rivals were unknown to him, he dwelt
At ease, and did not find his love a pain.

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Father, Most High, Be With Us

© Aurelius Clemens Prudentius

Father, Most High, be with us,

Unseen, Thy goodness showing,

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The Old Age Of Queen Maeve

© William Butler Yeats

A certain poet in outlandish clothes

Gathered a crowd in some Byzantine lane,

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Lady Fair

© Francis Ledwidge

Lady fair, have we not met

In our lives elsewhere ?

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Requiescit

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

His name is cut upon a stone. His dreams
Were written on Time's hem; and Time has fled
And taken him and them. The grass is green
Upon his grave. I cannot doubt he sleeps.

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The Future.

© Caroline Norton

I WAS a laughing child, and gaily dwelt

Where murmuring brooks, and dark blue rivers roll'd,