Great poems

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Mt. Lykaion

© Trumbull Stickney

Alone on Lykaion since man hath been

Stand on the height two columns, where at rest

Risus Dei

© Edward Thomas

Methinks in Him there dwells alway
A sea of laughter very deep,
Where the leviathans leap,
And little children play,

Stellas Birth-Day: A Great Bottle Of Wine, Long Buried, Being That Day Dug Up. 1722-3

© Jonathan Swift

Resolv'd my annual verse to pay,
By duty bound, on Stella's day,
Furnish'd with paper, pens, and ink,
I gravely sat me down to think:

Sonnet 61: "Is it thy will, thy image should keep open..."

© William Shakespeare

Is it thy will, thy image should keep open

My heavy eyelids to the weary night?

Pain

© Edward Thomas

The Man that hath great griefs I pity not;
Tis something to be great
In any wise, and hint the larger state,
Though but in shadow of a shade, God wot!

Sonnets To Europa

© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)

Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough
of dark becoming where it cannot be.
So much both for the soil and for the tree,
so much for things that are becoming now.

The Passing Glory

© Madison Julius Cawein

Slow sinks the sun,--a great carbuncle ball

Red in the cavern of a sombre cloud,--

You liked your scrolls ? Here they are.
The manuscript of your book ? Here it is.
Your wine and figs ? Here they are.
The portrait of your wife ? Here it is.
Your garden and your house ? Here they are.
The box you never opened ? Here it is.

Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 02

© Torquato Tasso

XVII

"Among the knights and worthies of their train,

Wreath Of Sonnets

© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)

And if sometimes they happen to perform
Some droning dance which smells of here and now,
With springing forms and circles staying warm,
They start to tremble on a pointed prow
Of universe and dream of their home
In whirls destroying leaves to leave a bough.

The Passing Of Arthur

© Alfred Tennyson

That story which the bold Sir Bedivere,
First made and latest left of all the knights,
Told, when the man was no more than a voice
In the white winter of his age, to those
With whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds.

Satyr IX. The State Of Love Imitated Fm An Elegy Of Mons:r Desportes

© Thomas Parnell

Hence lett us hence with Just abhorrence go
for ill their happyness these mortalls know
Who slight the mighty favours I bestow

Genesis BK III

© Caedmon

(ll. 135-143) The day departed, hasting over the dwellings of
earth. And after the gleaming light the Lord, our maker, thrust
on the first of evenings. Murky gloom pressed hard upon the
heels of day; God called it night. Our Lord sundered them, one
from the other; and ever since they follow out the will of God to
do it on the earth.

A Song. If Wine And Music Have The Power

If wine and music have the power

To ease the sickness of the soul,

The Stones

© Sylvia Plath

This is the city where men are mended.
I lie on a great anvil.
The flat blue sky-circle

Ode To The Philistines

Six days shalt thou swindle and lie!
On the sevenththo it soundeth odd
In the odour of sanctity
Thou shalt offer the Lord, thy God,
A threepenny bit, a doze, a start, and an unctuous smile,
And a hurried prayer to prosper another six days of guile.

The Animals are Leaving by Charles Harper Webb: American Life in Poetry #203 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet L

© Ted Kooser

To read in the news that a platoon of soldiers has been killed is a terrible thing, but to learn the name of just one of them makes the news even more vivid and sad. To hold the name of someone or something on our lips is a powerful thing. It is the badge of individuality and separateness. Charles Harper Webb, a California poet, takes advantage of the power of naming in this poem about the steady extinction of animal species. The Animals are Leaving

One by one, like guests at a late party
They shake our hands and step into the dark:
Arabian ostrich; Long-eared kit fox; Mysterious starling.