Men poems
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Jottings of New York: A Descriptive Poem
© William Topaz McGonagall
Oh mighty City of New York! you are wonderful to behold,Your buildings are magnificent, the truth be it told,They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye,Because many of them are thirteen storeys high
The River
© John Masefield
All other waters have their time of peace.Calm, or the turn of tide or summer drought;But on these bars the tumults never cease,In violent death this river passes out.
From Doctor Faustus ("Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?")
© Christopher Marlowe
Was this the face that launched a thousand shipsAnd burned the topless towers of Illium?Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss:Her lips suck forth my soul, see where it flies
A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book
© Edwin Markham
Beside the sewing-table chained and bent, They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud -- For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rentTorn in life's golden curtains
The Testament of John Lydgate
© John Lydgate
Beholde, o man! lyft up thyn eye and see What mortall peyne I suffre for thi trespace
Seeing Meng Haoran Off at Yellow Crane Tower
© Li Bai
My friend has left the west where the Yellow Crane towersFor River Town green with willows and red with flowers
Salve Deus Rex Iudæorum
© Lanyer Æmilia
Now Pontius Pilate is to judge the CauseOf faultlesse Jesus, who before him stands;Who neither hath offended Prince, nor Lawes,Although he now be brought in woefull bands:O noble Governour, make thou yet a pause,Doe not in innocent blood imbrue thy hands; But heare the words of thy most worthy wife, Who sends to thee, to beg her Sauiours life
Piers Plowman: The Prologue
© William Langland
In a somer sesun, whon softe was the sonne,I schop me into a shroud, as I a scheep were;In habite as an hermite unholy of werkesWente I wyde in this world wondres to here;Bote in a Mayes morwnynge on Malverne hullesMe bifel a ferly, of fairie, me-thoughte
Drury-lane Prologue Spoken by Mr. Garrick at the Opening of the Theatre in Drury-Lane, 1747
© Samuel Johnson
When Learning's triumph o'er her barb'rous foesFirst rear'd the stage, immortal Shakespear rose;Each change of many-colour'd life he drew,Exhausted worlds, and then imagin'd new:Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign,And panting Time toil'd after him in vain:His pow'rful strokes presiding Truth impress'd,And unresisted Passion storm'd the breast
Oceano Nox
© Victor Marie Hugo
Oh! combien de marins, combien de capitainesQui sont partis joyeux pour des courses lointaines,Dans ce morne horizon se sont évanouis!Combien ont disparu, dure et triste fortune!Dans une mer sans fond, par une nuit sans lune,Sous l'aveugle océan à jamais enfouis!
Combien de patrons morts avec leurs équipages!L'ouragan de leur vie a pris toutes les pages,Et d'un souffle il a tout dispersé sur les flots!Nul ne saura leur fin dans l'abîme plongée
