Poems begining by M

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My Lady

© Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz

(Español)
Perdite, señora, quiero
de mi silencio perdón,
si lo que ha sido atención
le hace parecer grosero.

Mater Amabilis

© Emma Lazarus

Down the goldenest of streams,
Tide of dreams,
The fair cradled man-child drifts;
Sways with cadenced motion slow,
To and fro,
As the mother-foot poised lightly, falls and lifts.

Maker of Heaven and Earth [All things bright and beautiful]

© Cecil Frances Alexander

All things bright and beautiful,

All creatures great and small,

The falcon mother cannot will her hand
Up to the bed, nor break the manacle
His exile sets upon her harsh command
That he should say the time is beautiful-
Transfigured by her own possessing light:
The sick man craves the impalpable night.

Mai

© François Coppée

Depuis un mois, chère exilée,
Loin de mes yeux tu t'en allas,
Et j'ai vu fleurir les lilas
Avec ma peine inconsolée.

My Love

© James Russell Lowell

Not as all other women are
Is she that to my soul is dear;
Her glorious fancies come from far,
Beneath the silver evening-star,
And yet her heart is ever near.

Marketplace Report

© Julie Hill Alger

January 23, 1991
The new war is a week old.
Bombs fall on Baghdad,
missiles on Tel Aviv.

My Soul Is Dark

© George Gordon Byron

My soul is dark--Oh! quickly string

The harp I yet can brook to hear;

Morts De Quatre-Vingt-Douze (Dead Of '92)

© Arthur Rimbaud

Morts de Quatre-vingt-douze et de Quatre-vingt-treize,
Qui, pâles du baiser fort de la liberté,
Calmes, sous vos sabots, brisiez le joug qui pèse
Sur l'âme et sur le front de toute humanité ;

Municipal

© Rudyard Kipling

"Why is my District death-rate low?"
Said Binks of Hezabad.
"Well, drains, and sewage-outfalls are
"My own peculiar fad.
"I learnt a lesson once, It ran
"Thus," quoth that most veracious man: -

My Lady Of Whims

© Katharine Lee Bates

(A medieval Spanish legend slanderously setting forth the utter unreason of woman.)

ROMAQUIA sat and wept her

Metamorphoses: Book The First

© Ovid

OF bodies chang'd to various forms, I sing:
Ye Gods, from whom these miracles did spring,
Inspire my numbers with coelestial heat;
'Till I my long laborious work compleat:

Mes Chants Savent Tout Peindre

© André Marie de Chénier

Mes chants savent tout peindre; accours, viens les entendre.

Ma voix plaît, Astérie, elle est flexible et tendre.

Moly

© Madison Julius Cawein

And these things then shall keep me company:
The elfins of the dew; the spirit of laughter
Who haunts the wind; the god of melody
Who sings within the stream, that reaches after

Metamorphoses: Book The Twelfth

© Ovid

The End of the Twelfth Book.

Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands

My Religion

My religion's lovin' God, who made us, one and all,
Who marks, no matter where it be, the humble sparrow's fall;
An' my religion's servin' Him the very best I can
By not despisin' anything He made, especially man!
It's lovin' sky an' earth an' sun an' birds an' flowers an' trees,
But lovin' human beings more than any one of these.