Time poems
/ page 745 of 792 /Mother and Poet
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Dead ! One of them shot by the sea in the east,
And one of them shot in the west by the sea.
Dead ! both my boys ! When you sit at the feast
And are wanting a great song for Italy free,
Let none look at me !
The Autumn
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
My Heart and I
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I.ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I.
We sit beside the headstone thus,
And wish that name were carved for us.
The moss reprints more tenderly
The Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I.
I stand on the mark beside the shore
Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee,
Where exile turned to ancestor,
Sonnet 32 - The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
To love me, I looked forward to the moon
To slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon
And quickly tied to make a lasting troth.
Sonnet 27 - My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, in betwixt the languid ringlets, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Sonnet 20 - Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago,
What time I sat alone here in the snow
And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
Sonnet 38 - First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
The fingers of this hand wherewith I write;
And ever since, it grew more clean and white,
Slow to world-greetings, quick with its 'Oh, list,'
The Weakest Thing
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Which is the weakest thing of all
Mine heart can ponder?
The sun, a little cloud can pall
With darkness yonder?
The Cry Of The Children
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,
And that cannot stop their tears.
The Drowned Man
© Alexander Pushkin
Translated by: Genia Gurarie, 11/95
Copyright retained by Genia Gurarie.
email: egurarie@princeton.edu
http://www.princeton.edu/~egurarie/
For permission to reproduce, write personally to the translator.
Confession (to Alina Osipova, 1826)
© Alexander Pushkin
(tr. by Genia Gurarie, 10.95 - 4.99)
Copyright retained by Genia Gurarie.
email: egurarie@princeton.edu
http://www.princeton.edu/~egurarie/
For permission to reproduce, write personally to the translator.
An Invocation
© Alexander Pushkin
O if it's true that in the night,
When rest the living in their havens
And liquid rays of lunar light
Glide down on tombstones from the heavens,
An Elegy
© Alexander Pushkin
The senseless years' extinguished mirth and laughter
Oppress me like some hazy morning-after.
But sadness of days past, as alcohol -
The more it age, the stronger grip the soul.
My course is dull. The future's troubled ocean
Forebodes me toil, misfortune and commotion.
"The wondrous moment of our meeting..."
© Alexander Pushkin
The wondrous moment of our meeting...
Still I remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.
Weep no more
© John Fletcher
WEEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that 's gone:
Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.
The Boiling Water
© Kenneth Koch
A serious moment for the
telephone is when it rings.
And a person answers, it is
Angelica, or is it you.
The Shrubbery, Written in a Time of Affliction
© William Cowper
But fix'd unalterable care
Foregoes not what she feels within,
Shows the same sadness ev'rywhere,
And slights the season and the scene.
Sardis
© William Cowper
(Revelations, iii. 1-6)"Write to Sardis," saith the Lord,
"And write what He declares,
He whose Spirit, and whose word,
Upholds the seven stars:
The Heart Healed and Changed by Mercy
© William Cowper
Sin enslaved me many years,
And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
Came swarming o'er my mind.