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Marmion: Canto 6
© Sir Walter Scott
Next morn the Baron climb'd the tower,To view afar the Scottish power, Encamp'd on Flodden edge:The white pavilions made a show,Like remnants of the winter snow, Along the dusky ridge
Social Notes II, 1935
© Scott Francis Reginald
The efficiency of the capitalist systemIs rightly admired by important people
Social Notes I, 1932
© Scott Francis Reginald
"We see thee rise, O Canada, The true North, strong and free,(Tralala-lala, tralala-lala, etc. ...)
My Amoeba Is Unaware
© Scott Francis Reginald
of this poem in its favour, though it sharesin my totality
Suicide in Trenches
© Siegfried Sassoon
I knew a simple soldier boyWho grinned at life in empty joy,Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,And whistled early with the lark.
A Life on the Ocean Wave
© Sargent Epes
A life on the ocean wave, A home on the rolling deep;Where the scattered waters rave, And the winds their revels keep!Like an eagle caged, I pine On this dull, unchanging shore:O! give me the flashing brine
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
Inaugural Poem
© Maya Angelou
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
A Poem
© Majeed Amjad
On a heap of squalid unscrubbed pans
immersed in simmering scalding water
the toiling sweating hands do seek
the blessed home
for ages they have thought and dreamed.
After Communion
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Why should I call Thee Lord, Who art my God? Why should I call Thee Friend, Who are my Love? Or King, Who art my very Spouse above?Or call Thy sceptre on my heart Thy rod? Lo now Thy banner over me is love,All heaven flies open to me at Thy nod:For Thou hast lit Thy flame in me a clod, Made me a nest for dwelling of Thy Dove
Emeritus
© Robertson James
Crumpled and bowed, Lone in the crowd,Let him clear out for his betters! What doth it serve Once he had nerve,Once too a tincture of letters: --
Tantramar Revisited
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Summers and summers have come, and gone with the flight of the swallow;Sunshine and thunder have been, storm, and winter, and frost;Many and many a sorrow has all but died from remembrance,Many a dream of joy fall'n in the shadow of pain
The Potato Harvest
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
A high bare field, brown from the plough, and borne Aslant from sunset; amber wastes of sky Washing the ridge; a clamour of crows that flyIn from the wide flats where the spent tides mournTo yon their rocking roosts in pines wind-torn; A line of grey snake-fence, that zigzags by A pond and cattle; from the homestead nighThe long deep summonings of the supper horn
An Epitaph for a Husbandman
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
He who would start and rise Before the crowing cocks, --No more he lifts his eyes, Whoever knocks.
Ave! (An Ode for the Shelley Centenary, 1892)
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I Wide marshes ever washed in clearest air,Whether beneath the sole and spectral star The dear severity of dawn you wear,Or whether in the joy of ample day And speechless ecstasy of growing JuneYou lie and dream the long blue hours away Till nightfall comes too soon,Or whether, naked to the unstarred night,You strike with wondering awe my inward sight, --
II Go forth to you with longing, though the yearsThat turn not back like your returning streams And fain would mist the memory with tears,Though the inexorable years deny My feet the fellowship of your deep grass,O'er which, as o'er another, tenderer sky, Cloud phantoms drift and pass, --You know my confident love, since first, a child,Amid your wastes of green I wandered wild
White Flock
© Anna Akhmatova
Copyright Anna Akhmatova
Copyright English translation by Ilya Shambat (ilya_shambat@yahoo.com)
Origin: http://www.geocities.com/ilya_shambat/akhmatova.html
