Poems begining by R
/ page 46 of 62 /Rules And Lessons
© Henry Vaughan
When first thine eyes unveil, give thy soul leave
To do the like: our bodies but forerun
The spirit's duty. True hearts spread and heave
Unto their God, as flowers do to the sun.
Give Him thy first thoughts then; so shalt thou keep
Him company all day, and in Him sleep.
Rondel of Merciless Beauty
© Geoffrey Chaucer
Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;
Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.
Riches
© Sara Teasdale
I have no riches but my thoughts,
Yet these are wealth enough for me;
My thoughts of you are golden coins
Stamped in the mint of memory;
Rafferty's Racin' Mare
© William Percy French
You've not seen Rafferty round this way?
He's a man with a broken hat,
Rubaiyat 04
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
One, beautiful and full of grace
Mirror in hand, grooming her face
My handkerchief I offered, she smiled,
Is this gift also part of the chase?
Rondel.
© Robert Crawford
The mist is in the town to-night,
And all the streets are dumb and drear;
The passers-by as ghosts appear,
Or things whose souls have taken flight
Robert Browning
© Henry Van Dyke
The blazons on his coat-of-arms are these:
The flaming sign of Shelley's heart on fire,
The golden globe of Shakespeare's human stage,
The staff and scrip of Chaucer's pilgrimage,
The rose of Dante's deep, divine desire,
The tragic mask of wise Euripides.
Russia To The Pacifists
© Rudyard Kipling
1918
God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,
But--leave your sports a little while--the dead are borne
this way!
Route Marchin'
© Rudyard Kipling
We're marchin' on relief over Injia's sunny plains,
A little front o' Christmas-time an' just be'ind the Rains;
Ho! get away you bullock-man, you've 'eard the bugle blowed,
There's a regiment a-comin' down the Grand Trunk Road;
Romulus and Remus
© Rudyard Kipling
Oh, little did the Wolf-Child care--
When first he planned his home,
What City should arise and bear
The weight and state of Rome.
Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
© Rudyard Kipling
Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines,
That rocket by where, light and high, the wild-grape swings,
By the rubbish in our wake, and the noble noise we make,
Be sure, be sure, we're going to do some splendid things!
Roses
© Pierre de Ronsard
I send you here a wreath of blossoms blown,
And woven flowers at sunset gathered,
Rimmon
© Rudyard Kipling
Duly with knees that feign to quake--
Bent head and shaded brow,--
Yet once again, for my father's sake,
In Rimmon's House I bow.
Rimini
© Rudyard Kipling
Marching Song of a Roman Legion of the Later Empire Enlarged From "Puck of Pook's Hill"
When I left Rome for Lalage's sake,
By the Legions' Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
Roses and Rue
© Oscar Wilde
Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
Were it worth the pleasure,
We never could learn love's song,
We are parted too long
Remembrance
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Friend of mine! whose lot was cast
With me in the distant past;
Where, like shadows flitting fast,
Recessional (A Victorian Ode)
© Rudyard Kipling
God of our fathers, known of old --
Lord of our far-flung battle line --
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine --
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget -- lest we forget!
Robinson At Home
© Weldon Kees
Curtains drawn back, the door ajar.
All winter long, it seemed, a darkening
Began. But now the moonlight and the odors of the street
Conspire and combine toward one community.
Rembrandts
© Madison Julius Cawein
I shall not soon forget her and her eyes,
The haunts of hate, where suffering seemed to write
Its own dark name, whose syllables are sighs,
In strange and starless night.