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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:
Penumbra
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I DID not look upon her eyes,
(Though scarcely seen, with no surprise,
Land, Ho!
© Edward Thomas
I know tis but a loom of land,
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice,
I know I cannot hear His voice
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand;
Yet is it land, ho! land.
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.
No One Ever Comes
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
Eupatius said: "I am famous for my hospitality.
I am bored. My thoughts are disturbing me.
No one ever comes to this place."
Eight Epitaphs
© Vlanes (Vladislav Nekliaev)
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.
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.
A Poet to...
© Charles Harpur
Thinewhen I saw thee first thou seemdst to me
A being known, yet beautifully new!
As when, to crown some sages theory,
Amid heavens sisterhoods, into shining view
Comes the conjectured star!his lucky name
To halo thenceforth with its virgin flame.
To Florence
© George Gordon Byron
Oh Lady! when I left the shore,
The distant shore which gave me birth,
I hardly thought to grieve once more
To quit another spot on earth:
Olympus
© Richard Monckton Milnes
With no sharp--sided peak or sudden cone,
Thou risest o'er the blank Thessalian plain,
But in the semblance of a rounded throne,
Meet for a monarch and his noble train
Si Descendero In Infernum, Ades
© James Russell Lowell
O wandering dim on the extremest edge
Of God's bright providence, whose spirits sigh
The Bluebell
© Emily Jane Brontë
The Bluebell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air:
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care.
The Philosopher's Oration: A Faun's Holiday
© Robert Nichols
Meanwhile, though nations in distress
Cower at a comet's loveliness
Shaken across the midnight sky;
Though the wind roars, and Victory,
