Pet poems
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Portii Licinii
© Richard Lovelace
Si Phoebi soror es, mando tibi, Delia, causam,
Scilicet, ut fratri quae peto verba feras:
Marmore Sicanio struxi tibi, Delphice, templum,
Et levibus calamis candida verba dedi.
Nunc, si nos audis, atque es divinus Apollo,
Dic mihi, qui nummos non habet unde petat.
Sonnet
© Judith Wright
Now let the draughtsman of my eyes be done
marking the line of petal and of hill.
Let the long commentary of the brain
be silent. Evening and the earth are one,
Astraea: The Balance Of Illusions
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Dear to his age were memories such as these,
Leaves of his June in life's autumnal breeze;
Such were the tales that won my boyish ear,
Told in low tones that evening loves to hear.
The Adirondacs
© Ralph Waldo Emerson
Wise and polite,--and if I drew
Their several portraits, you would own
Chaucer had no such worthy crew,
Nor Boccace in Decameron.
Subway by Barry Goldensohn: American Life in Poetry #125 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
The American poet, Ezra Pound, once described the faces of people in a rail station as petals on a wet black bough. That was roughly seventy-five years ago. Here Barry Goldenson of New York offers a look at a contemporary subway station. Not petals, but people all the same.
Twenty-Four Hokku On A Modern Theme
© Amy Lowell
Again the larkspur,
Heavenly blue in my garden.
They, at least, unchanged.
Spinster
© Sylvia Plath
Now this particular girl
During a ceremonious april walk
With her latest suitor
Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck
By the bird's irregular babel
And the leaves' litter.
Solcata Ho Fronte
© Ugo Foscolo
Solcata ho fronte, occhi incavati intenti,
Crin fulvo, emunte guance, ardito aspetto,
Labbro tumido acceso, e tersi denti,
Capo chino, bel collo, e largo petto;
Tale XIV
© George Crabbe
dwell,
While he was acting (he would call it) well;
He bought as others buy, he sold as others sell;
There was no fraud, and he demanded cause
Why he was troubled when he kept the laws?"
"My laws!" said Conscience. "What," said he, "
Flower-De-Luce: Palingenesis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I lay upon the headland-height, and listened
To the incessant sobbing of the sea
In caverns under me,
And watched the waves, that tossed and fled and glistened,
Until the rolling meadows of amethyst
Melted away in mist.
Extracts From Leon. An Unfinished Poem
© Joseph Rodman Drake
It is an eve that drops a heavenly balm,
To lull the feelings to a sober calm,
To bid wild passion's fiery flush depart;
And smooth the troubled waters of the heart;
To give a tranquil fixedness to grief,
A cherished gloom, that wishes not relief.
The Pen And The Album
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"I am Miss Catherine's book," the album speaks;
"I've lain among your tomes these many weeks;
I'm tired of their old coats and yellow cheeks.
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto IX.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
IV Fool and Wise
Endow the fool with sun and moon,
Being his, he holds them mean and low;
But to the wise a little boon
Is great, because the giver's so.
January Morning
© William Carlos Williams
I have discovered that most of
the beauties of travel are due to
the strange hours we keep to see them:
Unveiled
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Oh! sometimes by the fire
Of holy passion, in me, all subdued,
And melted to a mortal woman's mood,
Tender and warm,--
She, from her goddess height,
In gracious answer to my soul's desire,
In September
© Roderic Quinn
IN wood-hollows mate the swallows,
On the house-tops sparrows marry;
Where's the laggard that would tarry
When the Spring is up and doing,
Poor Withered Rose
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Poor withered rose, she gave it me,
Half in revenge and half in glee;
Its petals not so pink by half
As are her lips when curled to laugh,
As are her cheeks when dimples gay
In merry mischief o'er them play.
