Life poems
/ page 3 of 844 /The Comedian As The Letter C
© Wallace Stevens
379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name
© Edmund Spenser
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters
© Edmund Spenser
Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade,
With which that happy name was first design'd:
Amoretti LXVIII: Most Glorious Lord of Life
© Edmund Spenser
Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day,
Didst make thy triumph over death and sin:
Jubilate Agno (excerpt)
© Christopher Smart
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Written among the Euganean Hills North Italy
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
MANY a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
The Recollection
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
NOW the last day of many days,
All beautiful and bright as thou,
Ozymandias of Egypt
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Hymn to the Spirit of Nature
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
LIFE of Life! thy lips enkindle
With their love the breath between them;
And thy smiles before they dwindle
Make the cold air fire: then screen them
In those locks where whoso gazes 5
Faints entangled in their mazes.
Liberty Needs Glasses
© Tupac Shakur
excuse me but lady liberty needs glasses
and so does mrs justice by her side
Sonnet XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
© William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Sonnet 71
© William Shakespeare
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Sound, Sound the Clarion
© Sir Walter Scott
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
The Working Party
© Siegfried Sassoon
Three hours ago, he stumbled up the trench;
Now he will never walk that road again:
He must be carried back, a jolting lump
Beyond all needs of tenderness and care.