Great poems
/ page 398 of 549 /
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
Wordsworth's Grave
© William Watson
The old rude church, with bare, bald tower, is here;
Beneath its shadow high-born Rotha flows;
Rotha, remembering well who slumbers near,
And with cool murmur lulling his repose
To The Virginian Voyage
© Michael Drayton
You brave heroic minds,
Worthy your country's name,
That honour still pursue,
Go, and subdue,
Whilst loit'ring hinds
Lurke here at home with shame.
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;
Italy : 1. The Lake Of Geneva
© Samuel Rogers
Day glimmered in the east, and the white Moon
Hung like a vapour in the cloudless sky,
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 IX: As Other Men
© Michael Drayton
As other men, so I myself do muse
Why in this sort I wrest invention so,
And why these giddy metaphors I use,
Leaving the path the greater part do go.
We Go Out Together In the Staring Town
© Kenneth Patchen
We go out together into the staring town
And buy cheese and bread and little jugs with
flowered labels
The Hangman's Great Hands
© Kenneth Patchen
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
The Jackdaw Of Rheims
© Richard Harris Barham
The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there;
I will beguile him with the tongue
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Reason says, I will beguile him with the tongue.; Love says,
Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.
The soul says to the heart, Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
On The Victory Obtained By Blake Over the Spaniards, In The Bay Of Scanctacruze, In The Island Of teneriff.1657
© Andrew Marvell
Now does Spains Fleet her spatious wings unfold,
Leaves the new World and hastens for the old:
But though the wind was fair, the slowly swoome
Frayted with acted Guilt, and Guilt to come:
Sonnets on the Discovery of Botany Bay by Captain Cook
© Henry Kendall
The First Attempt to Reach the Shore
Where is the painter who shall paint for you,
Fleckno, an English Priest at Rome
© Andrew Marvell
Oblig'd by frequent visits of this man,
Whom as Priest, Poet, and Musician,
I for some branch of Melchizedeck took,
(Though he derives himself from my Lord Brooke)
On A Gentlewoman's Watch That Wanted A Key
© William Strode
Thou pretty heav'n whose great and lesser spheares
With constant wheelings measure hours and yeares
The Death of Cromwell
© Andrew Marvell
That Providence which had so long the care
Of Cromwell's head, and numbered every hair,
Now in itself (the glass where all appears)
Had seen the period of his golden years:
And thenceforh only did attend to trace
What death might least so fair a life deface.
Cromwell's Return
© Andrew Marvell
An Horatian Ode upon Cromwell's Return From IrelandThe forward youth that would appear
Must now forsake his muses dear,
Nor in the shadows sing,
His numbers languishing.
Clorinda And Damon
© Andrew Marvell
C.
I have a grassy Scutcheon spy'd,
Where Flora blazons all her pride.
The grass I aim to feast thy Sheep :
The Flow'rs I for thy Temples keep.
