Poems begining by M
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Methought I Saw The Footsteps Of A Throne
© William Wordsworth
METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne
Which mists and vapours from mine eyes did shroud--
Nor view of who might sit thereon allowed;
But all the steps and ground about were strown
M. Pom-Pom
© Ezra Pound
M. Pom-POM allait en guerre
Per vendere cannoni
Mon beau grand frère
Ne peut plus voir
Per vendere cannoni.
Man
© Henry Vaughan
Weighing the steadfastness and state
Of some mean things which here below reside,
Man Kunto Maula
© Amir Khusro
Man kunto maula,
Fa Ali-un maula
Man kunto maula.
Dara dil-e dara dil-e dar-e daani.
Hum tum tanana nana, nana nana ray
Yalali yalali yala, yalayala ray Man tunko maula......
Meritamente
© Ugo Foscolo
Meritamente, però ch'io potei
Abbandonarti, or grido alle frementi
Onde che batton l'alpi, e i pianti miei
Sperdono sordi del Tirreno i venti.
My Darlin' Girl From Clare
© William Percy French
We were sittin' on the wall upon a Sunday
To watch the girls go by,
Motherhood
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
Mary,the Christ long slain,passed silently,
Following the children joyous astir
Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her--
Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
She saw a little Christ in every face.
My Youth
© Gamaliel Bradford
Oh, my youth was hot and eager,
And my heart was burning, burning,
And the present joy seemed meagre,
Dwarfed by that perpetual yearning.
Madonna With Two Angels
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Under the sky without a stain
The long, ripe, rippling of the grain;
My Rules
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
Miss Edith Makes Another Friend
© Francis Bret Harte
Oh, you're the girl lives on the corner? Come in--if you want to--
come quick!
Moonrise
© Govinda Krishna Chettur
I awoke in the Midsummer not to call night, in the white and the walk of the
morning:
The moon, dwindled and thinned to the fringe of a finger-nail held to the
candle,
Or paring of paradisaical fruit, lovely in waning but lustreless,
Stepped from the stool, drew back from the barrow, of dark Maenefa the mountain;
Madhushala (The Tavern)
© Harivansh Rai Bachchan
Seeking wine, the drinker leaves home for the tavern.
Perplexed, he asks, "Which path will take me there?"
People show him different ways, but this is what I have to say,
"Pick a path and keep walking. You will find the tavern."
My Bohemian Existence
© Arthur Rimbaud
I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
my overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky,
Muse! and I was your vassal;
Musagetes
© Madison Julius Cawein
For the mountains' hoarse greetings came hollow
From stormy wind-chasms and caves,
And I heard their wild cataracts wallow
Huge bulks in long spasms of waves,
And that Demon said, "Lo! you must follow!
And our path is o'er myriads of graves."
My Australian Spurs
© William Henry Ogilvie
Old and worn my Bushland spurs
Hang above my desk to-day.
