Great poems
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It Must Give Pleasure
© Wallace Stevens
I
To sing jubilas at exact, accustomed times,
To be crested and wear the mane of a multitude
And so, as part, to exult with its great throat,
The Bard
© William Gilmore Simms
Where dwells the spirit of the Bard-what sky
Persuades his daring wing,-
The Crab That Played with the Sea
© Rudyard Kipling
China-going P. & O.'s
Pass Pau Amma's playground close,
The Secret People
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
They have given us into the hand of new unhappy lords,
Lords without anger or honour, who dare not carry their swords.
They fight by shuffling papers; they have bright dead alien eyes;
They look at our labour and laughter as a tired man looks at flies.
And the load of their loveless pity is worse than the ancient wrongs,
Their doors are shut in the evening; and they know no songs.
Young Love
© Sara Teasdale
I cannot heed the words they say,
The lights grow far away and dim,
Amid the laughing men and maids
My eyes unbidden seek for him.
Epilogue
© Herman Melville
Yea, ape and angel, strife and old debate--
The harps of heaven and dreary gongs of hell;
Science the feud can only aggravate--
No umpire she betwixt the chimes and knell:
The running battle of the star and clod
Shall run forever--if there be no God.
The Toad
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Then also was it that that child with the stone,
He who now tells this story, from his hands
Let the flag drop. A voice had cried to him
Too loud for denial: ``Fool. Be merciful.''
Welcome To Winter
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
NOW, with wild and windy roar,
Stalwart Winter comes once more,--
O'er our roof-tree thunders loud,
And from edges of black cloud
The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome
© Robert Browning
ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
Italy : 19. Foscari
© Samuel Rogers
Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber. Now a sigh,
And now a groan is heard. Then all is still.
Twenty are sitting as in judgement there;
Richard and Kate: A suffolk Ballad
© Robert Bloomfield
'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel,
Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat;
Old joys reviv'd once more I feel,
'Tis Fair-day;--ay, _and more than that._
The Art Of War. Book II.
© Henry James Pye
The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.
The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XXI: Abel Keene
© George Crabbe
merchant's son,
Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;
It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged to combat and destroy;
At these they levelled all their skill and
Vanity Of Spirit
© Henry Vaughan
Quite spent with thoughts, I left my cell and lay
Where a shrill spring tuned to the early day.
Justice (II)
© George Herbert
O Dreadfull Justice, what a fright and terrour
Wast thou of old,
When sinne and errour
Did show and shape thy looks to me,
And through their glasse discolour thee!
He that did but look up, was proud and bold.
Langue D'Oc
© Ezra Pound
When the springtime is sweet
And the birds repeat
Their new song in the leaves.
Tis meet
A man go where he will.
A Damascene Moon
© Nizar Qabbani
Green Tunisia, I have come to you as a lover
On my brow, a rose and a book
For I am the Damascene whose profession is passion
Whose singing turns the herbs green
A Story Of Doom: Book I.
© Jean Ingelow
Niloiya said to Noah, "What aileth thee,
My master, unto whom is my desire,
The father of my sons?" He answered her,
"Mother of many children, I have heard
The Voice again." "Ah, me!" she saith, "ah, me!
What spake it?" and with that Niloiya sighed.
