Poems begining by N
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New Forest Ponies
© William Henry Ogilvie
You are free of the woodland meadows,
Of swamp and thicket and ride;
New England June
© Bliss William Carman
THESE things I remember
Of New England June,
Like a vivid day-dream
In the azure noon,
Nirvana
© Sri Aurobindo
Only the illimitable Permanent
Is here. A Peace stupendous, featureless, still.
Replaces all, - what once was I, in It
A silent unnamed emptiness content
Either to fade in the Unknowable
Or thrill with the luminous seas of the Infinite.
Not Understood
© George MacDonald
Tumultuous rushing o'er the outstretched plains;
A wildered maze of comets and of suns;
Never to Dream of Spiders
© Elizabeth Daryush
Once the renegade flesh was gone
fall air lay against my face
sharp and blue as a needle
but the rain fell through October
and death lay a condemnation
within my blood.
Nabokov’s Blues
© William Matthews
The wallful of quoted passages from his work,
with the requisite specimens pinned next
to their literary cameo appearances, was too good
New Stanzas for Amazing Grace
© Allen Ginsberg
I dreamed I dwelled in a homeless place
Where I was lost alone
Folk looked right through me into space
And passed with eyes of stone
No Second Troy
© William Butler Yeats
WHY should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Not Ideas About the Thing but the Thing Itself
© Edwin Muir
At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.
Night Feeding
© Katha Pollitt
Deeper than sleep but not so deep as death
I lay there dreaming and my magic head
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part III.
© Henry James Pye
Arm'd in her cause, on Chalgrave's fatal plain,
Where sorrowing Freedom mourns her Hambden slain,
Say, shall the moralizing bard presume
From his proud hearse to tear one warlike plume,
Because a Cæsar or a Cromwell wore
An impious wreath, wet with their country's gore?
Neighbours
© Rudyard Kipling
The man that is open of heart to his neighbour,
And stops to consider his likes and dislikes,
Niagara
© Adelaide Crapsey
Seen on a Night in November
How frail
Above the bulk
Of crashing water hangs,
Autumnal, evanescent, wan,
The moon.
Ned Connor
© Charles Harpur
TWAS nightand where a watery sound
Came moaning up the Flat,
Six rude and bearded stockmen round
Their blazing hut-fire sat,
And laughed as on some starting hound
The cracking fuel spat.
Neighboring You
© Eli Siegel
On a table
With the sunlight coming in,
A mat, irregularly placed, with many curves within it;
A napkin somewhat used, by now a little disreputable,
No Alto
© Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
O poeta chegara ao alto da montanha,
E quando ia a descer a vertente do oeste,
Viu uma cousa estranha,
Uma figura má.
