Good poems

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The Rape of the Trap. A Ballad

© William Shenstone

'Twas in a land of learning,
The Muse's favourite city,
Such pranks of late
Were play'd by a rat,
As-tempt one to be witty.

I offer you my forests and my street-cries
With hands of double-patience under the clock,
The antiseptic arguments and lies
Uttered before the flood, the submerged rock.
The sack of meal pierced by the handsome fencer,
The flowers dying for a great adventure.

Sirena

© Michael Drayton

NEAR to the silver Trent
SIRENA dwelleth;
She to whom Nature lent
All that excelleth;

Sonnet IV: Bright Star of Beauty

© Michael Drayton

Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit
A thousand nymph-like and enamour'd Graces,
The Goddesses of Memory and Wit,
Which there in order take their several places;

Agincourt

© Michael Drayton

FAIR stood the wind for France
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance
Longer will tarry;

Kunlun

© Mao Zedong

Far above the earth, into the blue

You, wild Kunlun, have seen

Vidrik Verlandson (From The Old Danish)

© George Borrow

King Diderik sits in the halls of Bern,
And he boasts of his deeds of might;
So many a swain in battle hes felld,
And taken so many a knight.

Idea XX

© Michael Drayton

An evil spirit, your beauty, haunts me still,Wherewith, alas, I have been long possess'd,Which ceaseth not to tempt me to each ill,Nor gives me once but one poor minute's rest

Sonnet XX: An Evil Spirit

© Michael Drayton

An evil spirit, your beauty haunts me still,
Wherewith, alas, I have been long possest,
Which ceaseth not to tempt me to each ill,
Nor gives me once but one poor minute's rest;

Sonnet XXII: With Fools and Children

© Michael Drayton

To FollyWith fools and children, good discretion bears;
Then, honest people, bear with Love and me,
Nor older yet, nor wiser made by years,
Amongst the rest of fools and children be;

The Battle Of Agincourt

© Michael Drayton

Fair stood the wind for France
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance
Longer will tarry;

Sonnet XXI: A Witless Galant

© Michael Drayton

A witless gallant a young wench that woo'd
(Yet his dull spirit her not one jot could move),
Entreated me, as e'er I wish'd his good,
To write him but one sonnet to his love;

The Hangman's Great Hands

And all that is this day. . .
The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his
wife...
Anger won't help. I was born angry. Angry that my father was

As We Are So Wonderfully Done With Each Other

As we are so wonderfully done with each other
We can walk into our separate sleep
on floors of music where the milkwhite cloak of childhood
lies

Creation

Any person who loves another person,
Wherever in the world, is with us in this room -
Even though there are battlefields.

The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart

The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart;
the secret thoughts he harbored against me I also perceived.
His dog bit my foot, he showed me much injustice; I do not
bite him like a dog, I have bitten my own lip.

Last night my soul cried O exalted sphere of Heaven

Last night my soul cried, O exalted sphere of Heaven, you hang indeed inverted, with flames in your belly.
Without sin and crime, eternally revolving upon your body in its complaining is the indigo of mourning;
Now happy, now unhappy, like Abraham in the fire; at once king and beggar like Ebrahim-e Adham.
In your form you are terrifying, yet your state is full of anguish: you turn round like a millstone and writhe like a snake.