Poems begining by M
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My Life
© Rainer Maria Rilke
My whole life is mine, but whoever says so
will deprive me, for it is infinite.
The ripple of water, the shade of the sky
are mine; it is still the same, my life.
My Wifes Second Husband
© Henry Lawson
THE WORLD goes round, old fellow,
And still Im in the swim,
"My teacher wasn't half as nice as yours seems to be"
© Roald Dahl
"My teacher wasn't half as nice as yours seems to be.
His name was Mister Unsworth and he taught us history.
And when you didn't know a date he'd get you by the ear
And start to twist while you sat there quite paralysed with fear.
M'Sieu Smit
© William Henry Drummond
Wan morning de walkim boss say "Damase,
I t'ink you're good man on canoe d'ecorce,
So I'll ax you go wit' your frien' Philéas
An' meet M'sieu' Smit' on Chenail W'ite Horse.
"My window pane is broken"
© Lesbia Harford
My window pane is broken
Just a bit
Where the small curtain doesn't
Cover it.
Memory's Genesis
© Charles Harpur
Yes! tis a melancholy sweet,
And thus let Memory oft repeat
Lifes first tale, that to the core
Retempered by such generous lore,
Our hardning spirits, as tis meet,
May pity the cold worldthe world we trust no more!
Minora Sidera
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Sitting at times over a hearth that burns
With dull domestic glow,
My thought, leaving the book, gratefully turns
To you who planned it so.
Margaret Love Peacock, for her tombstone, 1826
© Thomas Love Peacock
Long night succeeds thy little day;
Oh blighted blossom! can it be,
That this grey stone, and grassy clay,
Have clos'd our anxious care of thee?
My Cousin From Pall Mall
© Arthur Patchett Martin
Theres nothing so exasperates a true Australian youth,
Whatever be his rank in life, be he cultured or uncouth,
As the manner of a London swell. Now it chanced, the other day,
That one came out, consigned to mea cousin, by the way.
Monody On The Death Of Dr. Warton
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh! I should ill thy generous cares requite
Thou who didst first inspire my timid Muse,
Meditation On A Cold, Dark, And Rainy Night
© George Moses Horton
Sweet on the house top falls the gentle shower,
Moesta et Errabunda (Grieving and Wandering)
© Charles Baudelaire
Dis-moi ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe,
Loin du noir océan de l'immonde cité
Vers un autre océan où la splendeur éclate,
Bleu, clair, profond, ainsi que la virginité?
Dis-moi, ton coeur parfois s'envole-t-il, Agathe?
Mutability - II.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
Mockery
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Why do we grudge our sweets so to the living
Who, God knows, find at best too much of gall,
And then with generous, open hands kneel, giving
Unto the dead our all?
May
© John Shaw Neilson
Shyly the silver-hatted mushrooms make
Soft entrance through,
And undelivered lovers, half awake,
Hear noises in the dew
My Literary Friend
© Henry Lawson
Once I wrote a little poem which I thought was very fine,
And I showed the printers copy to a critic friend of mine,
First he praised the thing a little, then he found a little fault;
The ideas are good, he muttered, but the rhythm seems to halt.
Mid Wastes Of Africa A Wanderer Sped
© France Preseren
Mid wastes of Africa a wanderer sped:
He found no pathway; night was now afield.
Through clouds no stealthy glimmer was revealed;
Craving the moon, he made the grass his bed.
