Men poems

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Trines Ko

© Jeppe Aakjaer

Nu skal du ha' din Havrekjærv,

og jeg skal ha' min Nætter;

The Cock and The Fox

© Robert Henryson

Thogh brutal beestes be irrational,

That is to say, wantand, discretioun,

Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Septimus

© John Gower

Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter.

Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King

© Matthew Prior

Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cast

Into the long Records of Ages past:

Patria (French & English)

© Victor Marie Hugo

(Musique de Beethoven)
Là-haut qui sourit ?
Est-ce un esprit ?
Est-ce une femme ?

A Dialogue At Fiesole

© Alfred Austin

HE.
Halt here awhile. That mossy-cushioned seat
Is for your queenliness a natural throne;
As I am fitly couched on this low sward,
Here at your feet.

The Shepheardes Calender: May

© Edmund Spenser

May: AEgloga Quinta. Palinode & Piers.
Palinode.
IS not thilke the mery moneth of May,
When loue lads masken in fresh aray?

The Brus Book XIX

© John Barbour

[The conspiracy against King Robert; its discovery]

Than wes the land a quhile in pes,

To His Worthy Friend Doctor Witty Upon His Translation Of T

© Andrew Marvell

Sit further, and make room for thine own fame,
Where just desert enrolles thy honour'd Name
The good Interpreter. Some in this task
Take of the Cypress vail, but leave a mask,

So they begin. With two years gone...

© Boris Pasternak

So they begin. With two years gone
From nurse to countless tunes they scuttle.
They chirp and whistle. Then comes on
The third year, and they start to prattle.

Of all nacyons vnder the heuyn

[Skelton Laureate agaynste a comely Coystrowne that curyowsly chawntyd And curryshly cowntred, And madly in hys Musykkys mokkyshly made, Agaynste the IXth Musys of polytyke Poems & Poettys matryculat.]

Of all nacyons vnder the heuyn.

Bud's Fairy-Tale

Nen _I_ say "Howdy-do!"
An' he say "_I'm_ all hunkey, Nibsey; how
Is _your_ folks comin' on?"

In Hospital

I
Nothing of itself is in the still'd mind, only
A still submission to each exterior image,
Still as a pool, accepting trees and sky,

A True Tale

© Mary Barber

Of Scripture--Heroes she would tell,
Whose Names they lisp'd, ere they could spell:
The Mother then, delighted, smiles;
And shews the Story on the Tiles.