Good poems

 / page 516 of 545 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Other Children

© Paul Eluard

And this leap from age to age,
From the order of a child to that of an old man,
Will not diminish us.
(Confidence).

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Shark's Parlor

© James Dickey

Memory: I can take my head and strike it on a wall on Cumberland Island
Where the night tide came crawling under the stairs came up the first
Two or three steps and the cottage stood on poles all night
With the sea sprawled under it as we dreamed of the great fin circling

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XLV

© Edmund Spenser

LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene,
Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew:
and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,
most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

An Hymn In Honour Of Beauty

© Edmund Spenser

AH whither, Love, wilt thou now carry me?
What wontless fury dost thou now inspire
Into my feeble breast, too full of thee?
Whilst seeking to aslake thy raging fire,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet LXXXI

© Edmund Spenser

Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares,
with the loose wynd ye wauing chance to marke:
fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appeares,
or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XXXI

© Edmund Spenser

Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart,
giuen so goodly giftes of beauties grace?
whose pryde depraues each other better part,
and all those pretious ornaments deface.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet LXXVII

© Edmund Spenser

Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne,
a goodly table of pure yvory:
all spred with iuncats, fit to entertayne,
the greatest Prince with pompous roialty.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 21

© Edmund Spenser

WHo is the same, which at my window peepes?
Or whose is that faire face, that shines so bright,
Is it not Cinthia, she that neuer sleepes,
But walkes about high heauen al the night?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 7

© Edmund Spenser

NOw is my loue all ready forth to come,
Let all the virgins therefore well awayt,
And ye fresh boyes that tend vpon her groome
Prepare your selues; for he is comming strayt.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 5

© Edmund Spenser

WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time,
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her siluer coche to clyme,
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XLVIII

© Edmund Spenser

INnocent paper whom too cruell hand,
Did make the matter to auenge her yre:
and ere she could thy cause wel vnderstand,
did sacrifize vnto the greedy fyre.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 6

© Edmund Spenser

My loue is now awake out of her dreame,
and her fayre eyes like stars that dimmed were
With darksome cloud, now shew theyr goodly beams
More bright then Hesperus his head doth rere.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 3

© Edmund Spenser

BRing with you all the Nymphes that you can heare
both of the riuers and the forrests greene:
And of the sea that neighbours to her neare,
Al with gay girlands goodly wel beseene.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XIII

© Edmund Spenser

IN that proud port, which her so goodly graceth,
whiles her faire face she reares vp to the skie:
and to the ground her eie lids low embaseth,
most goodly temperature ye may descry,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem 13

© Edmund Spenser

Behold whiles she before the altar stands
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes
And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
How the red roses flush vp in her cheekes,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XL

© Edmund Spenser

MArk when she smiles with amiable cheare,
And tell me whereto can ye lyken it:
when on each eyelid sweetly doe appeare,
an hundred Graces as in shade to sit.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XXVII

© Edmund Spenser

FAire proud now tell me why should faire be proud;
Sith all worlds glorie is but drosse vncleane:
and in the shade of death it selfe shall shroud,
how euer now thereof ye little weene.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet LXV

© Edmund Spenser

THe doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre loue, is vaine
That fondly feare to loose your liberty,
when loosing one, two liberties ye gayne,
and make him bond that bondage earst dyd fly.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet XXIIII

© Edmund Spenser

WHen I behold that beauties wonderment,
And rare perfection of each goodly part;
of natures skill the only complement,
I honor and admire the makers art.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Sonnet LXX

© Edmund Spenser

FResh spring the herald of loues mighty king,
In whose cote armour richly are displayd,
all sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring
in goodly colours gloriously arrayd.