Poems begining by P

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Porphyrion

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Yet into vacancy the troubled heart
Brings its own fullness: and Porphyrion found
The void a prison, and in the silence chains.

Pilgrimage In Search Of Do-Well

© William Langland

Thus y-robed in russet . romed I aboute

Al in a somer seson . for to seke Do-wel;

Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven

© Henry Francis Lyte

Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet Thy tribute bring!
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise the everlasting King!

Poetry

© Madison Julius Cawein

Who hath beheld the goddess face to face,
Blind with her beauty, all his days shall go
Climbing lone mountains towards her temple's place,
Weighed with song's sweet, inexorable woe.

Prousts Madeleine

© Kenneth Rexroth

Somebody has given my

Baby daughter a box of

Psalm VIII.

© John Milton

O Jehovah our Lord how wondrous great
And glorious is thy name through all the earth?
So as above the Heavens thy praise to set
Out of the tender mouths of latest bearth,

Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Should mix with ours, the vanquished. Destiny
Has run for us its course: one boon I beg;
Bid not the conquered conquer in thy train."

Proserpina

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

LUNGI è la luce che in sù questo muro

Rifrange appena, un breve istante scorta

Nobody knows the world but me.
The rest go to bed; I sit up and see.
I'm a better observer than any of you all,
For I never look out till the twilight fall,
And never then without green glasses,
And that is how my wisdom passes.

Prais'd be Diana's Fair and Harmless Light

© Sir Walter Raleigh

Prais'd be Diana's fair and harmless light;

Prais'd be the dews wherewith she moists the ground;

Prodigal Yet

© Ethelwyn Wetherald

Muck of the sty, reek of the trough,

Blackened my brow where all might see,

Porth Ceiriad Bay

© Benjamin Jonson

Descended to the shore, odd how we left
the young girl with us to herself, and went
straight to examine the stratified cliffs,
forgot her entirely in our interest.

Pelang

© William Henry Drummond

Pelang! Pelang! Mon cher garçon,
I t'ink of you--t'ink of you night and day--
Don't mak' no difference, seems to me
De long long tam you're gone away.

Pleasant Prophecies

© Robert Fuller Murray

A day of gladness yet will dawn,
Though when I cannot say;
Perhaps it may be Thursday week,
Perhaps some other day,

Poetic Emotion.

The heart's throb makes the music: words are air,
A mortal breath, if no emotion thrills
The subtle syllables; and all men own
The poesy, the passion, and the power

Pursuit From Under

© James Dickey

And on August week ends the cold of a personal ice age
Comes up through my bare feet
Which are trying to walk like a boy's again
So that nothing on earth can have changed
On the ground where I was raised.

Palinode - Autumn

Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now
On field and hill, in heart and brain;
The naked trees at evening sough;
The leaf to the forsaken bough
Sighs not,--'_Auf wiedersehen!_'

Pont Du Carrousel

That blind man by the bridge, who is as gray
As a forgotten country's boundary stone,
Might be the thing most constant and alone
Around which stars are turning far away:
A centerpoint in isolate repose,
While all about him postures, strays, and flows.