Poems begining by P
/ page 63 of 110 /
Paradise Lost Book 5: An Epitome
© Anthony Evan Hecht
Higgledy piggeldy
Archangel Rafael,
Speaking of Satan's re-
Bellion from God:
Prospects
© Anthony Evan Hecht
We have set out from here for the sublime
Pastures of summer shade and mountain stream;
I have no doubt we shall arrive on time.
Proximity.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Thy coldness puts to flight my joy.
But soon as night and silence round us reign,
I know thee by thy kisses sweet again!
Presence.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ALL things give token of thee!
As soon as the bright sun is shining,
Thou too wilt follow, I trust.
Premature Spring.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
DAYS full of rapture,Are ye renew'd ?--
Smile in the sunlightMountain and wood?Streams richer ladenFlow through the dale,
Are these the meadows?Is this the vale?Coolness cerulean!Heaven and height!
Fish crowd the ocean,Golden and bright.Birds of gay plumageSport in the grove,
Playing At Priests.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Through house and garden thus in state
We strutted early, strutted late,
Repeating with all proper unction,
Incessantly each holy function.
The best was wanting to the game;
Preface To The Second Edition.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I need scarcely add that I have availed myself of this opportunity
to make whatever improvements have suggested themselves to me in
my original version of these Poems.
Proximity Of The Beloved One.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I THINK of thee, whene'er the sun his beamsO'er ocean flings;
I think of thee, whene'er the moonlight gleamsIn silv'ry springs.I see thee, when upon the distant ridgeThe dust awakes;
At midnight's hour, when on the fragile bridgeThe wanderer quakes.I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high,With murmur deep.
To tread the silent grove oft wander I,When all's asleep.I'm near thee, though thou far away mayst be--Thou, too, art near!
Put Out My Eyes
© Rainer Maria Rilke
Put out my eyes, and I can see you still,
Slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;
Part of a Legacy by Frank Steele: American Life in Poetry #158 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
Putting bed pillows onto the grass to freshen, it's a pretty humble subject for a poem, but look how Kentucky poet, Frank Steele, deftly uses a sun-warmed pillow to bring back the comfort and security of childhood.
Part of a Legacy
Petition.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OH thou sweet maiden fair,
Thou with the raven hair,Why to the window go?While gazing down below,
Art standing vainly there?Oh, if thou stood'st for me,
And lett'st the latch but fly,How happy should I be!
Phoebus And Hermes.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
DELOS' stately ruler, and Maia's son, the adroit one,Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain.
Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim'd by Apollo,Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish'd by hope.
For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive,Dashing in twain the gold toy, brandishing wildly his sword.
Hermes, malicious one, laughed beyond measure; yet deep-seated sorrowSeized upon Phoebus's heart, seized on the heart of each Muse. 1799.*
Poems On Man
© Rabindranath Tagore
Man is immortal; therefore he must die endlessly.
For life is a creative idea;
it can only find itself in changing forms.
Poetry.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
GOD to his untaught children sentLaw, order, knowledge, art, from high,
And ev'ry heav'nly favour lent,The world's hard lot to qualify.
They knew not how they should behave,For all from Heav'n stark-naked came;
But Poetry their garments gave,And then not one had cause for shame. 1816.
Prometheus.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Didst thou e'er fancy
That life I should learn to hate,
And fly to deserts,
Because not all
My blossoming dreams grew ripe?
Patience
© Thomas Dekker
Patience! why, 'tis the soul of peace:
OF all the virtues, 'tis nearest kin to heaven:
It makes men look like gods. The best of men
That e'er wore earth about Him was a sufferer;
A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit;
The first true gentleman that ever breathed.
Procemion.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHAT God would outwardly alone control,
And on his finger whirl the mighty Whole?
He loves the inner world to move, to view
Nature in Him, Himself in Nature too,
So that what in Him works, and is, and lives,
The measure of His strength, His spirit gives.
