Life poems
/ page 504 of 844 /The Hearts
© Robert Pinsky
The legendary muscle that wants and grieves,
The organ of attachment, the pump of thrills
And troubles, clinging in stubborn colonies
To A Wounded Bird
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Thou shalt feel no more the wind on thy wing,
Nor float on the breath of the breeze;
OEnone
© Alfred Tennyson
"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palm
Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold,
That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd
And listen'd, the full-flowing river of speech
Came down upon my heart.
Too Late
© Madison Julius Cawein
I looked upon a dead girl's face and heard
What seemed the voice of Love call unto me
T o W.H.H.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
How like a mighty picture, tint by tint,
This marvellous world is opening to thy view!
Wonders of earth and heaven; shapes bright and new,
Strength, radiance, beauty, and all things that hint
From The Iron Gate
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AS on the gauzy wings of fancy flying
From some far orb I track our watery sphere,
Home of the struggling, suffering, doubting, dying,
The silvered globule seems a glistening tear.
Street Musicians
© John Ashbery
One died, and the soul was wrenched out
Of the other in life, who, walking the streets
The Troubadour. Canto 1
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
There is a light step passing by
Like the distant sound of music's sigh;
It is that fair and gentle child,
Whose sweetness has so oft beguiled,
Like sunlight on a stormy day,
His almost sullenness away.
Roses And Sunshine
© Edgar Albert Guest
Rough is the road I am journeying now,
Heavy the burden I'm bearing to-day;
Falling Asleep over the Aeneid
© Robert Lowell
An old man in Concord forgets to go to morning service. He falls asleep, while reading Vergil, and dreams that he is Aeneas at the funeral of Pallas, an Italian prince.
The sun is blue and scarlet on my page,
from Odes: 15 ["Nothing"]
© Ted Hughes
Nothing
substance utters or time
stills and restrains
joins design and
Thomas Jefferson
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Thomas Jefferson,
What do you say
Under the gravestone
Hidden away?
Structure of Rime XXVIII: In Memoriam Wallace Stevens
© Robert Duncan
“That God is colouring Newton doth shew”—William Blake
Erecting beyond the boundaries of all government his grand Station and Customs, I find what I have made there a Gate, a staking out of his art in Inconsequence. I have in mind a poetry that will frame the willingness of the heart and deliver it over to the arrest of Time, a sentence as if there could stand some solidity most spacial in its intent against the drifts and appearances that arise and fall away in time from the crude events of physical space. The Mind alone holds the consequence of the erection to be true, so that Desire and Imagination usurp the place of the Invisible Throne.
Song #12.
© Robert Crawford
I have brought thee all the faith
That a man can give,
I have sheltered thee with love,
O life's fugitive!
To Thyrza: And Thou Art Dead, As Young And Fair
© George Gordon Byron
And thou art dead, as young and fair
As aught of mortal birth;
Division Of An Estate
© George Moses Horton
It well bespeaks a man beheaded, quite
Divested of the laurel robe of life,
When every member struggles for its base,
The head; the power of order now recedes,
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.