Pet poems
/ page 89 of 126 /Shakuntala Act VII (Final Act)
© Kalidasa
ACT VII
King Dushyant with Matali in the chariot of Indra (king of gods in heaven and also god of thunder), supposed to be above the clouds.
King Dushyant: I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved not such a profusion of honours.
Steinli Von Slang
© Charles Godfrey Leland
I.
DER watchman look out from his tower
Ash de Abendgold glimmer grew dim,
Und saw on de road troo de Gauer
In The Garden I: The Garden
© Edward Dowden
PAST the town's clamour is a garden full
Of loneness and old greenery; at noon
Harvest Moon
© Arthur Symons
Thoughtful luminous harvest moon, as I walk,
The rich and sumptuous night, the procession of trees
Alfred. Book V.
© Henry James Pye
As o'er the tented field the squadrons spread,
Stretch'd on the turf the hardy soldier's bed;
While the strong mound, and warder's careful eyes,
Protect the midnight camp from quick surprise,
A voice, in hollow murmurs from the plain,
Attracts the notice of the wakeful train.
Flower of Love
© Oscar Wilde
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine the fault was, had I not been made of common
clay
I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet, seen the fuller air, the
larger day.
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Day.
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
Faris
© Adam Mickiewicz
In vain, in vain they threaten me!
I speed on with redoubled blows.
The haughty crags have I outgazed,
And, where such hostile front they raised,
Now in a long defile they flee,
Nor one behind another shows.
The Dunciad: Book II.
© Alexander Pope
Not with more glee, by hands Pontific crown'd,
With scarlet hats wide-waving circled round,
Rome in her Capitol saw Querno sit,
Throned on seven hills, the Antichrist of wit.
Georges Et Jeanne
© Victor Marie Hugo
Moi qu'un petit enfant rend tout à fait stupide,
J'en ai deux ; George et Jeanne ; et je prends l'un pour guide
Violets
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A GUSTY wind o'ersweeps the garden close,
And, where the jonquil, with the white-rod glows,
Riots like some rude hoyden uncontrolled.
But here, where sunshine and coy shadows meet,
Out gleam the tender eyes of violets sweet,
Touched by the vapory noontide's fleeting gold.
Here In This Land
© Karl Kraus
Here in this land no one gets ridicule
but he who tells the truth. He then must stand
defenseless and attract some smirking, cool
disdain. Nothing dishonors in this land.
The Fever-Dream
© Caroline Norton
IT was a fever-dream; I lay
Awake, as in the broad bright day,
But faint and worn I drew my breath
Like those who wait for coming death;
A Song
© Victor Marie Hugo
Sitting at His table one day,
God and the devil a game did play;
Hated humanity was at stake;
Well, the first picked Bonaparte;
The other drew, and for his part,
'Twas Mastai that he did take.
If My Hands Could Defoliate translated from Si Mis Manos Pudieran Deshojar
© Federico Garcia Lorca
I pronounce your name,
in this dark night,
and your name sounds
more distant than ever.
More distant that all stars
and more doleful than a calm rain.
"I am cold. Transparent Spring dresses"
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
I
I am cold. Transparent Spring dresses
Petropolis in verdant down.
But like a medusa, the Neva's wave
Written At Paris, 1700. In The Beginning Of Robe's Geography
© Matthew Prior
Then as thou wilt dispose the rest
(And let not Fortune spoil the jest)
To those who at the market-rate
Can barter honour for estate.
To My Wife With a Copy of My Poems
© Oscar Wilde
I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.