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John Skelton
© Robert Graves
What could be dafter
Than John Skeltons laughter?
What sound more tenderly
Than his pretty poetry?
The Bough of Nonsense
© Robert Graves
Where once a nonsense built her nest
With skulls and flowers and all things queer,
In an old boot, with patient breast
Hatching three eggs; and the next year
S. Foaled thirteen squamous young beneath, and rid
Wales of drink, melancholy, and psalms, she did.
The Next War
© Robert Graves
You young friskies who today
Jump and fight in Fathers hay
With bows and arrows and wooden spears,
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers,
Hello, How Are You?
© Charles Bukowski
at least they are not out on the street, they
are careful to stay indoors, those
pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets,
their lives full of canned, mutilated laughter.
Antonio Melidori
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SCENE I.
[A place not far from the summit of Mount Psiloriti, in the Isle of Candia. Philota discovered with a basket of grapes upon her head; she looks eagerly upward. Time, a little before sunset.]
PHILOTA.
Counting The Beats
© Robert Graves
You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I?
The Familist's Hymn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Father! to Thy suffering poor
Strength and grace and faith impart,
To Hear Her Sing
© James Whitcomb Riley
To hear her sing--to hear her sing--
It is to hear the birds of Spring
In dewy groves on blooming sprays
Pour out their blithest roundelays.
Far Within Us #7
© Vasko Popa
Toothed eyes fly
Over still watersAround us purple lips
Flutter from branchesScreams hit the blue
And fall onto pillowsOur homes hide
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Sixth
© William Wordsworth
WHY comes not Francis?--From the doleful City
He fled,--and, in his flight, could hear
The death-sounds of the Minster-bell:
That sullen stroke pronounced farewell
The Owners Of The Little Box
© Vasko Popa
Line the inside of the little box
With your precious skin
And make yourself cozy
Just as you would in your own home
Aurora Leigh: Book One
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I, alas,
A wild bird scarcely fledged, was brought to her cage,
And she was there to meet me. Very kind.
Bring the clean water, give out the fresh seed.
At Shelleys House At Lerici
© Alfred Austin
Maiden, with English hair, and eyes
The colour of Italian skies,
What seek you by this shore?
``I seek, sir, for the latest home
Where Shelley dwelt, and, o'er the foam
Speeding, returned no more.''
For the Moore Centennial Celebration
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ENCHANTER of Erin, whose magic has bound us,
Thy wand for one moment we fondly would claim,
Entranced while it summons the phantoms around us
That blush into life at the sound of thy name.
The Dorchester Giant
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THERE was a giant in time of old,
A mighty one was he;
He had a wife, but she was a scold,
So he kept her shut in his mammoth fold;
And he had children three.
My Aviary
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THROUGH my north window, in the wintry weather,--
My airy oriel on the river shore,--
I watch the sea-fowl as they flock together
Where late the boatman flashed his dripping oar.
The Iron Gate
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting?
Not unfamiliar to my ear his name,
Nor yet unknown to many a joyous meeting
In days long vanished,-- is he still the same,
